


Redemption

by Darkness_Rising



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Spark Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Twincest, Violence, non-con, spark bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 90,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2516996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkness_Rising/pseuds/Darkness_Rising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for LJ TwinsxRatchet comminity, Ledishae requested the following:</p>
<p><i>Ratchet used to be a Decepticon, he was in experimental medicine under Shockwave - and loved his work. Take any horror movie, HP Lovecraft universe and he made it seem nice in comparison to what he did. Until he realized that Shockwave was not using his research to help others, but to destroy them easier.</i> </p>
<p> <br/><i>The prompt is this, Ratchet has since joined the Autobots, and fallen for the twins, but can't accept their advances due to his history. The twins, despite their reputations otherwise, are totally loyal Autobots who take on the tough jobs others cringe at. They do Prime's dirty work, but know Prime uses them to save others. Now the twins, realizing Ratchet is spiralling into despair must save him and his spark before he terminates from grief. Have fun, make it whatever you want!</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally began posting this to LJ in October 2012 and the story is still ongoing. Corrections and minor edits have been made from the original. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Dubious Consent for an incident which will happen sometime after chapter 10. EDIT: With a change in the story dubious consent is now non-con. This occurs in chapter 13 and there is note at the end of that chapter should you wish to know what form the non-con takes before reading.**
> 
>  
> 
> General Notes:
> 
> Let’s take dark energon and ignore the fact that it is a product of Unicron (As depicted in Transformers Prime and War for Cybertron), as for this story it is the name that is given the end product of a mix of life-energon and an experimental medicinal additive.
> 
> During his Decepticon days Ratchet will be known as Torque. Some will probably know that this is a name of an Autobot MiniCon from the Transformers Energon series but as it is also a type of Wrench too I thought, why not? In addition to his new (old) name, he will also be blue and white and it is assumed that he has a different frame shape (his name and frame change does come up in a later chapter).
> 
> I don’t want to call this a cross over but in my head the Drones are the Vehicons from Transformers Prime.
> 
> Final note: an idea I have been toying with Since Transformers Prime Season 2 started is that the twins have a second skin of battle armour. This second armour serves as additional protection as well as making the warriors larger in stature and although lightweight, it is hardier than even their natural armour. The idea was born from Megatron’s design in Transformers Prime. In my mind I always see their shoulders looking just like Megatron’s shoulders do, but on a smaller scale. When their battle armour is activated I have also added the idea that they also don battle masks (this is the bit I like the most, the idea of only seeing their optics making them a cold faceless terror.) I have been playing with the idea in a another twins fic as I wanted a way to make them seem more menacing, but as I only write snippets of that fic every now and then, and it is a long way off being posted, I thought I would transfer the idea to here.
> 
> _~text~_ twin bond  
>  //-text-// Comm. links
> 
> Times when on Cybertron:  
> Vorn – week  
> Stellar-cycle – 1 year  
> Deca-cycle – 10 yrs  
> Mega-cycles – 100 yrs

**On the cusp of the war…**  
  
A horrified mech backed his way towards the doorway. He had known that what he was about to encounter here was not good, nothing behind a locked door was ever good, but he had to know what was in that room, needed to confirm his suspicions. Now shock and horror coursed through him, his life energon running cold in his lines as optics scanned the darkened room. All the while he fought the desire to purge his tanks as they roiled in his disgust.  
  
Even the gloom in this room could not hide the macabre sight of what lay before him, the terrible, dark secret that had been kept from him.  
  
The medical wing he had ventured into was a quarantine wing, last used during a rust epidemic two mega-cycles ago. The medic had been integral in the cure of the deadly disease and his ingenuity in this case had caught the optic of a prominent scientist who was allied with Megatron, the up and coming voice of the lower castes. It was shockwave who had persuaded the medic to become involved in experimental medicine with him.  
  
This room he was trapped in was only large enough to house up to fifty quarantined mechs at the same time, however he could clearly see that it contained more than twice that amount. Some berths held three mechs, each curled in as much of a ball of pain as their frame would allow them. Other mechs littered the floor and judging by the scattering of immobile frames, they shared their space with the dead.  
   
The pain in here was palpable, audible, and the image his optics relayed to his processor was that of a fictional horror story. Except this was no story, this was very real. His vents were suffocated by the heat of so many frames in such a small space mixed with the stench of fear that rolled of the… _sick_ …they clearly were sick but whether it was natural or induced, that was another matter.  
  
The medic knew he should never have closed the door behind him as not only did he have to get to the exit, he would have to try and fumble with opening it so he could make good his escape. As he backed ever closer to the barrier that stood between him and his freedom from this insanity, hands started groping at his feet, slowing his footsteps, and now they clawed up his legs, making it near impossible for him to move, and once the grabbing had slowed his escape from this room of horror they quickly consumed his frame until he was wrapped in a sea of wailing mechs, begging for mercy, begging him to relieve them of their pain, their nightmare.  
   
  **~|~**  
   
“Your reasoning is illogical.”  
  
“But…what you have done, it’s wrong…immoral.” Torque cried. “Those mechs…I’ve seen the files, the ones you _hid_ from me, they were healthy mechs and now they writhe in agony as they are left to die, and for what!?”  
  
Shockwave was unperturbed by the medic’s discovery and it did not change his plans. “The formula had to be tested, what makes your way more ethical than mine.”  
  
The medic narrowed his optics at the scientist, his tone clipped. “Because you know the early formulas were highly unstable. _That_ is why we never started the medical trials before now, we needed to stabilise the formula!”  
  
The large purple mech regarded the smaller blue and white one with his single optic. As far as he was concerned, this was his lab and no one should dare question him, least of all one of his subordinates, however it seemed that Torque had not finished.  
  
“You say my reasoning is _illogical_ but I can’t get my processor around your reasoning. The energon additive was to help the sick, the damaged, those whose systems could no longer process their energon efficiently but you administered an unstable medicine to near healthy mechs, destroying them, and you compare our ethics.”  
  
Bored with the conversation, the cold, calculated vocaliser of Shockwave put Torque in his place. “Your job is to perfect the formula medic, not question my ethics. And I remind you that you are under contract and should you decide to run, know that we will find you and the consequences will be dire.”  
  
On that note, Shockwave left the lab and a rather stunned Torque behind.  
  
This was not what he signed up for, not when he joined Shockwave’s team. He had joined the research team just as the first rumblings of war filtered through the cities and had been in awe of the plans of the Decepticons, not only to break down the caste system but to also offer much needed medicinal aid to the weak. Like those who were so malnourished from living on the streets that their systems no longer fully functioned, making whatever meagre amounts of energon they could get their servos on near impossible to digest.  
  
The job offer had been a dream. He could help others whilst being part of something phenomenal but now, now he felt he was in a nightmare, one he may never wake up from.  
   
****\-----------------------****  
   
**Five mega-cycles later**  
  
The army of Drones, each bearing the strength of several mechs, came crashing through the city and fanning out they maximised the ground they covered. They had their instructions and they would not waver from their objective, could not waver, their programming forbade it.  
  
Any one who attempted to thwart their progress into the city, be they soldier or civilian, were dismissed with very little effort at all; they were no match for the strength of this army, collectively or individually. Deep purple emblems were emblazoned upon their chests for all to see and their instructions…destroy any Cybertronian who refused to bow down to Megatron.  
   
**~|~**  
   
From the confines of the Decepticon command centre, a single garnet optic coldly watched the monitors as another city fell. There were no feelings, there was no remorse, not even satisfaction…only logic. If you did not support the Decepticon cause, then there was no place for you on this planet.  
   
**~|~**  
   
Alone, in an empty room in their Kaon headquarters, a medic watched the same satellite feed and the sheer horror of what he saw was reflected in his optics. He knew that he would be haunted by these images for as long as he lived but as far as he was concerned, it was the least he deserved, after all, he had caused this. He had been instrumental in the building of this unstoppable army and although he may not be out there taking the lives of his fellow Cybertronians, there was no getting away from the fact, he was a murderer.  
  
**\------------------------**  
  
**Sometime during the war…**  
  
Two dangerous mechs sat in the dark, biding their time. If anyone bothered to look into the murky corner they may catch sight of the two pairs of cold optics that studied the movements of their targets. Their objective, to clear the Decepticon carrier ship’s flight deck of the Drones who currently occupied it, before their Autobot comrades could take over the cargo of imprisoned Cybertronians who were scheduled to be shipped off to Shockwave’s lab.  
  
They had their orders and this cycle, it would not be the Drones who would walk away from this particular fight.

This super army that Shockwave had built, they had an almost unrivalled strength and the Autobots had lost too many battles against them so now, it was time for the Autobot commander to bring in his most deadly soldiers; the ones he knew would get the task done, quickly and efficiently.  
  
The ship had already been secretly scouted; six Drones were on board, two guarding the cells that housed the prisoners and the rest at the flight deck. Now it was the turn of the two who were capable of carrying out this mission, the only mechs on the Primes personal team who would even take on the challenge when others would shrink away.  
  
The pair would have to start with the Drones manning flight deck, if they started in the brig then those watching the monitors would witness the attack and the gig would be up. The two conversed silently across their unique bond, it was time. This cycle there would be no spinal strut shuddering battle cry, no rushing out of where they hid, no, this cycle stealth was to be their ally, until they had the upper hand.  
  
**\------------------------**  
   
**Earth present day…**  
  
A warning claxon shrieked through the night silence, pulling all Autobots aboard the Earth stranded vessel from their recharge and with systems still powering up, various mechs staggered into the command room to wait their instructions. Optimus Prime was already at Teletraan1, conversing with Jazz and Red Alert and it was not until all of the Ark’s residents had assembled there, did the Prime address his soldiers.  
  
“It would seem the Decepticons have decided on a night time attack at a research medical facility, half an hour flight away from our location…”  
  
“Wait, what? A medical research facility?” Ratchet interrupted the Prime. “Are you sure?”  
  
Red Alert piped up curtly. “Teletraan1 is quite sure Ratchet.”  
  
Looking at the data pad that the Security Director handed him, the medic kept his worried thoughts to himself as he read the intelligence contained therein.  
  
While the CMO read, Optimus continued. “The only reason we can think of for an attack at this time of the cycle is that with fewer personnel on the site, Megatron can get in and out easier which means he _really_ wants his servos on something."  
   
“Do we know exactly what the facility houses?” Prowl questioned the larger mech.  
  
“Red Alert has already compiled a list of medical equipment and chemical compounds on the site. We have yet to establish what Megatron would find useful.” The Security Director handed data pads out to the rest of command staff, all containing the information he had just passed to Ratchet as the Prime continued. “The chances are that we will not get there in time but a team of us will travel with Skyfire and do what we can.”  
  
“So essentially we’re on clean up duty!” Gears groused from somewhere in the group. “If you think the Cons’ll be gone by the time we arrive, all that’ll be left to do is clean up.”  
  
The Prime kept any irritation that he may have felt out of his words. “That may well be Gears, but we have to attempt to stop them.”  
  
A few murmurs rippled through the group of Autobots but they all patiently waited for the Commander’s instructions.  
  
“The following mechs will embark on this mission. Jazz, Prowl, Bluestreak, Ironhide, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Gears, Hound, Trailbreaker, Mirage, Blaster, Inferno, Perceptor, Ratchet and Wheeljack. Ratchet, Hoist can take care of the med bay in your absence…”  
  
The comment barely registered with the medic as he continued to study the data pad he clenched tightly in his servo.  
   
"Wheeljack, whilst we are on route we need you to study the equipment listed in the inventory and Perceptor, we will need you with us to analyse the list of chemical compounds that are stored at the facility, see if we can figure out what Megatron is after before we get there and why.”  
  
Perceptor briefly nodded at his commander while the Autobots whose designations had been called, started making their way outside to where Skyfire waited. Before he joined them Optimus gave instructions to the mechs remaining behind and once he had boarded the shuttle, Skyfire launched into the dark night sky.  
   
  **~|~**  
   
As idle chatter floated around the shuttle’s hull Ratchet sat quietly, tuned out to the sounds around him. His processor was going back through the information that Red Alert had shown him and he studied the data pad once again. His optics became dark as he read through the files, discovering exactly what drugs they manufactured, what chemical compounds were stored there.  
  
Unbidden, memory files he preferred not to visit assaulted his processor and he shuttered his optics as he desperately tried to clamp down on them, but it was too late.

**Several millennia before**

  
_As the chemical compounds fizzled and spat in the test tube optics watched the life-energon sample they had been added to, darken before bubbling out of control. Pouring in a neutralising complex Torque made a few notes. This had actually been the most stable result so far but something still was not right. Having recorded all the data that he could from this test the Decepticon medic prepared a disposal canister for yet another mix that could not be used.  
  
As much as the blue and white mech enjoyed his role as the head of Shockwave’s personal medical research team, he was becoming a little frustrated at his failure to stabilise the mineral composite that could help thousands of energon starved Cybertronians. If only he could figure out the missing element, but despite his continuous research, aided by the assistants assigned to him, he could not stabilise the formula.  
  
Before he had chance to place the disposal canister in the incinerator the lab door opened, granting Shockwave entrance.  
  
“Is that the latest mix?” His single garnet optic held the medic in its stare.  
  
Nodding once,Torque replied, “It is Shockwave.”  
  
“Results?”  
  
The medic handed over his data pad and waited for the Decepticon scientist to respond. A few silent moments passed whilst the large purple mech read the contents and when he finished he extended a small data cable from his wrist and plugging it in to the pad, he downloaded the data to his own memory files before handing the data pad back to his CMO. “Dispose of the canister and get started on the next batch.”  
  
“Yes sir.”  
  
For a long time the routine was always the same. Torque would test a new batch and the results would not be quite right, yet Shockwave would download the compound ingredients and leave the team to their many research projects until the next test came along. _  
  
Ratchet unshuttered his optics as the memory faded, his vents becoming irregular as he looked at the data pad in his servo again. One particular chemical stood out to him, its main element very similar to one that he had used many millions of stellar-cycles ago and with careful extraction, this could be very bad news for them all.  
  
He needed to tell the Prime of his discovery, tell him he knew what the Decepticon warlord was after and why, but he was frozen to his spot, his processor refusing to relay the pulses he needed to speak up. He was in denial.  
  
While the Autobot CMO found himself lost in his own little world, two pairs of near identical cobalt optics watched the morose looking medic. They had clocked Ratchet’s reaction back on the Ark, immediately after Optimus had informed them that the Decepticons were attacking a medical facility and since then they had watched the medic’s every move.  
  
_~He doesn’t look so good.~_ Sunstreaker stated, his words unheard by those around them.  
  
Sideswipe continued to watch, not quite sure what to make of what was going on. _~Do you think he has a virus?~_  
  
Sunstreaker snorted softy, but loud enough to draw the optics of the mechs closest to them his way. Glaring at the curious mechs until they quickly went back to whatever they were discussing, he replied, _~Doubt it.~_ His worry mingling with Sideswipe’s.  
  
The private conversation between the twins was cut short when Skyfire announced that he had picked up the Decepticon energy signatures now that they were no more than a few milesfrom their destination. Projecting a schematic hologram of the medical facility the shuttle former was able to roughly highlight the current positions of their foe.  
  
A lowly whistle pierced the apprehensive air as energy signature after energy signature appeared on the hologram. “Looks like they’re out in force Prime!” Ironhide intoned.  
  
“It would seem they are Ironhide but one thing puzzles me.” Optimus briefly glanced at the weapons specialist.  
  
The bulky red mech crossed his arms across his broad chest. “Care to share?”  
  
Optimus studied the layout again. “Why Megatron has so many of his soldiers inside the facility and only three on guard?”  
  
Prowl was busy looking over the schematics, calculating their best plan of attack and without pausing from his algorithms he frowned in response to the comment. “That is extremely unexpected.” He replied but added nothing further as he continued his calculations. Finally looking up at an expectant group the tactician stated. “I predict that the Constructicons will be present. They’ll need Hook’s medical background and where one is…”  
  
Ironhide interrupted the tactician. “The others are. We’ll sort ‘em out Prowl, don't you worry about that.”  
  
As the group of commanders conversed quietly, Skyfire’s voice came over the comm. “That should be it Prime.” He confirmed.  
  
On this information Optimus started to relay a few orders. “Mirage, we need to know who this small cluster of energy signatures belongs to.” He rotated the hologram. “They are guarding what looks to be the main entrance here, which also seems to be the most direct route to the area that the other energy signatures emanate from and before we go in, we need to know what we are up against.”  
  
Mirage nodded his acknowledgment. “Yes Prime.”  
  
“Jazz, you shadow Mirage but stay well back, just back him up if he needs it.”  
  
The special ops officer mock saluted his commanding officer. “Sure thing O P.”  
  
Optimus then turned to his tactical officer. “Over to you Prowl.”  
  
The Praxian addressed the crew matter-of-factly. “We will split into two teams. Team A will be led by Optimus and will consist of Ratchet, Bluestreak, Bumblebee, Hound, Inferno, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Team B will be led by myself and consist of Ironhide, Wheeljack, Cliffjumper, Gears and Trailbreaker. Blaster and Perceptor, you will both remain with Skyfire. Blaster, we need those comms. jammed and Perceptor, we need to know how to handle the chemicals in there should things become heated.”  
  
Prowl then went on to instruct how they would split into smaller groups and fan out until finally Skyfire informed the soldiers of their arrival at their destination.  
  
“We’re just about to touch down in three…two…one.” The shuttle set down behind a small wooded area, a shirt distance from their end target. This way they hoped that their enemy would not pick up on their arrival quite yet.  
  
Whilst Skyfire opened the door to his hull, Optimus addressed his soldiers again. “I do not believe I have to tell you how quickly we need to move. The Decepticons have had a fair start on us and may leave before we are ready.”  
  
The team of started readying their weapons as Mirage left the confines of the shuttle. Activating his electro-disruptor the spy vanished into the darkness whilst Jazz waited a few minutes before beginning his descent down the ramp. The silence aboard the shuttle was heavy as they waited for news from Mirage and with the luxury of his invisibility allowing him to home straight in on his target, Mirage moved quickly and it was not long before he was in contact with the crew.  
  
//Prime, I think we have a small problem.//  
  
//Go On Mirage.// Optimus instructed.  
  
There was a pause before the Towers mech replied. //We have three Drones at the entrance.//  
  
The silence just became a little heavier.  
  
//Are you sure Mirage?// The Prime questioned.  
   
//Quite sure Prime.// The usually calm vocaliser wavered. //They are identical in frame to those complicit in the attack at The Towers.//  
  
Optimus could almost feel the tension roll off Mirage through the comm. link. These Drones that Mirage spoke of had been dominant in the attacks of so many of the cities that had refused to surrender to Megatron, their unwavering obedience contributory in the Decepticon leader’s power drive. This unexpected news put a spanner in the current Autobot plan of attack.  
  
Ironhide raised his brow as he commented from the Prime’s side. “And there’s the explanation to why there’s only three on guard.”  
  
//Fliers?// The Prime asked Mirage.  
  
//One.//  
  
Meanwhile, wearing a very rare frown, Prowl was quickly going back over his calculations, changing some of the parameters. This piece of news was something he could not have factored and he did not like that one bit.  
  
Optimus mulled over the information and he needed to move quickly. Sure, they vastly outnumbered the Drones but the Prime had too witnessed their capacity for destruction, even when only in a small group like this, and despite having a team of very skilled fighters, to send his mechs out there was to send some of them to certain death.  
   
Other than returning to The Ark and leaving the Decepticons to their spoils there really was only one thing he could do and turning to two soldiers sat quietly in the corner, their faces now a blank wall to their thoughts and feelings on hearing this news, the Prime shuttered his optics briefly and vented deeply. He knew that the twins were fully aware of what was about to come and before Optimus gave them their command, the pair rose from their seats.  
  
The silence aboard Skyfire was thick with the knowledge that the two mechs would be given an order, one the Prime had not given since waking up on Earth. No one would hear it, no one would utter it in the presence of others, but it would be there. Loss of life was a by-product of war, totally inevitable but to order it clashed with everything Optimus and his Autobots battled for.  
  
_~Let’s go say hello to some old friends ,Sunny.~_ Sideswipe’s frame was taught, his plates of armour pulled tight against his protoform as he mentally prepared himself for battle.  
  
Sunstreaker mirrored his twin’s stance. _~Technically they’re new friends. We killed the old ones.~_ He deadpanned.  
  
Sideswipe shared his brother’s sick mirth.  
  
As the front liners stepped forward the other Autobots shrank back in their seats, grateful that they were not the ones that would have to carry out the order; grateful that they were not the ones others called cold-energoned killers.  
  
This was where the twins excelled, taking the front line and clearing the way for the others, doing Prime’s dirty work. They did what they had to do, what their commander needed them to do to save the lives of their fellow Autobots, no questions asked, and they lived with the label that some mechs seemed pit bent on giving them as their loyalty to the Autobot leader remained devout.  
  
“You know what to do.” Were the only words that left the Prime’s vocaliser before he turned his back on the twins; he too had to do what needed to be done, even of it went against everything he stood for.  
  
With a barely detectable nod to one another a transformation sequence initiated and as the other Autobots watched on, their battle armour slid into place. The entire process took only nano-seconds and although most would say that the twins were formidable enough without their additional layer of armour, their second skin certainly succeeded in further intimidating both friend and foe.  
  
Standing tall, final pieces of crimson and golden plating settled into position before matching battle masks slid into place, the pale colour of the protective metal matching their face plates and giving an air of facelessness. The cobalt optics of the twins that where cold enough when in battle turned icy, becoming totally devoid of emotion. This ritual, although not used in all battles, still had some of the Autobots in awe whilst others shied away. There were no other known mechs alive that still carried this programming, a result of fighting in the rings.  
  
The silent twins made their way to the exit but not before Gears muttered sarcastically to Cliffjumper sat beside him, loud enough for the passing warriors to hear. “Oh our heroes!”  
  
Cliffjumper failed to hide his snigger which was soon wiped off his face when Sunstreaker stopped in front of them. His icy glare pinning both minibots to their seats, but it was from Sideswipe the equally cold voice from behind his battle mask spat out.  
  
“You can thank us later when your frames have not been mangled and fragged by those Drones!”  
  
Gears scowled at the golden mech who loomed above him whilst Cliffjumper squirmed under Sideswipe’s glare. It was always unnerving to see the crimson Autobot go from fun loving prankster to cold and calculating, and any camaraderie that may usually be shared with Sideswipe outside of battle was soon forgotten.  
  
Suddenly Sunstreaker’s servo was at Gears’ plating, his nimble digits sliding between seams, brushing against vital wires. Frightened optics stared back at Sunstreaker as the recon mech held his frame still, barely daring to vent in case he tipped the larger mech over the edge.  
  
“Back down you pair!” Optimus demanded as he turned towards the scuffle. “Now is not the time for petty squabbles!”  
  
Sideswipe had already placed a hand on his brother’s arm, urging him to calm down. _~C’mon Sunny, we‘ve enough to deal with when we get out there, let’s not waste energy getting wound up by one of our own.~_   Then turning to the two antagonists in this particular face off, he stated, “ _Thi_ s time you get away with it.” The cold tone suggesting that they were walking a thin line.  
  
Sunstreaker’s emotionless optics darkened for a moment before settling back into an ice cold blue and he pulled his fingers out from between the small seams, dragging finger tips across the edges of the plating, causing the small Autobot to wince. _~The fragger’s lucky I didn’t...~_  
  
_~Another time Sunny. Now let’s go.~_ The older twin ordered as he disappeared into the dark.  
  
The twins were primed for battle and only a complete fool would try to rile them up when they were in this state, only a complete fool would wind them out of battle but once they donned their battle armour then the two absolutely took no prisoners, they could not afford to. Their motto was simple, _do or die_ and they had no intention of doing the latter. At these times they became everything they were accused of being, sparkless maniacs, but it was what they had to be when out there.  
  
Sunstreaker threw one last glare at the pair of minibots before following Sideswipe off the shuttle.  
  
No sooner that the two were out of audial shot Gears started shooting off his vocaliser as he made an exaggerated point of rubbing the area Sunstreaker had attacked. “When we gonna keep those fraggers locked in the brig? It’s only a matter of time before they kill one of us.”  
  
Only Cliffjumper seemed to agree with that statement. “Yeah, I didn’t even do anything and Sides was in my face.”  
  
The rest of the crowd remained silent until an unlikely source spoke up. “Those _fraggers_ put their lives on the line for us time and time again and you’d do well to remember that”!  
  
The two bots looked over to the mech who had remained completely aloof during their journey, and Gears growled in response. “That doesn’t give them the right to bully us.”  
  
“Can you blame them? Any chance you get you’re in _their_ faces.” Ratchet stood up from his seat to face the duo, something flashing in his optics as he closed the gap between them. “They’re out there now, alone, to face Drones that you and I know are almost as sparkless as the dead, just so we stand a chance of winning this.”  
  
Cliffjumper snarled in response while Gears frowned as he cut back in. “Since when d’you care about them so much? You’re hardly their greatest fan.”  
  
The medic looked at them pointedly. “I care about the time _I_ have to spend putting _you_ fraggers back together when you collide with them. Next time I’ll leave your sorry afts as they left them.”  
  
Both minibots looked as though to say something but they found themselves cowed into silence by Ratchet’s glower which suggested his words were a promise and not a mere threat. In the end Cliffjumper dropped his optics to his servos whilst Gears just crossed his arms and grumbled to himself, neither spoke about the twins again.  
  
With the conversation finally ended Ratchet turned from the duo, catching the Prime’s optic before walking out of Skyfire.  
  
Optimus watched his CMO disembark from the craft and grimaced to himself. Ratchet had many ways to silence a mech and he had been on the receiving end of that glare on many occasions, but there was something else there, something he could not quite put a finger on. However he did not have the time to ponder over it now, the twins would work quickly and they needed to be ready.  
  
“Okay mechs, you all know what you have to do, Prowl, take your team to the rear of the facility and the rest of you move out to the edge of the wood and wait for the twins to give the all clear.”  
  
Silently, with the exception of Blaster, Perceptor and Skyfire, the rest of the crew took their positions and waited until the twins gave the all clear.  
   
**~|~**  
   
As the cold night air enveloped Ratchet’s frame his venting became erratic. He could feel his panic rising like unprocessed energon in his intakes and he was sure he would purge his tank. Ratchet knew he needed to go back and speak with  Optimus, to tell his old friend of his concerns as to why Megatron was here but he still couldn't do it.

He had no reason to _not_ confide his suspicions to his Prime, Optimus knew all there was to know about him, that had part of the deal if he wanted the protection of the Autobots. Of course, that deal had been made a long time ago and since then Ratchet had become a bona fide Autobot but unfortunately, that did not erase his past.  
  
Skyfire sensed the medic’s presence outside and pinged him, requesting a comm.  
  
So deep in thought Ratchet jumped at the small sound of a comm. request and frowned before accepting the connection. //What’s up Sky?//  
  
//Are you okay, Ratchet?// The large shuttle former asked. He hated seeing any of his comrades anything other than okay.  
  
Ratchet gave a very small forced smile, not that Skyfire could see it from where the medic stood. Patting the nearest piece of plating he could reach, he replied, //Yes Sky, just needed a little space, too many EM fields fighting for dominance in there.// Just another lie in the long list of many he told; however this one paled into comparison to the one he had been living.  
  
//Okay, if you’re sure you’re alright I’ll leave you in peace.//  
  
Patting the shuttle again Ratchet cut the link and watched from where he stood as Prowl and his team filed out into the dark woodland.

Shortly after, Optimus descended the ramp with team A. Pausing, the Prime let his mechs file past him as he looked around for Ratchet and picking up his energy signature, he joined the waiting group.  
  
Shuttering his optics the CMO cleared his mind. He needed to be a soldier right now, needed to be in the right frame of mind if his medical assistance was needed and once he could almost think straight, he too joined the team to wait his instructions.  
   
**~|~**  
   
Under the blanket of darkness, crimson and gold stole across the ground that separated the two mechs from their target. As they came out of the natural cover of the trees they moved quickly, seeking any cover they could lest the starlight give them away. They could just see the three Drones ahead through the mesh fencing as voice filled their comms.

  
//I’ve been watching their movements.// The cultured accent sounded strained. //The flier is standing watch whist the other two are patrolling. The path they beat is only small and they are working in opposite directions.//  
   
//Slaggers!// Sunstreaker stated. He thought they had seen the last of the Drones a long time on Cybertron. As the war continued other supplies other than energon became scarce and the Autobots believed this was the reason why the number of Drones dropped, Shockwave had no way of creating their strength.  
  
Sideswipe glanced at his twin. _~Guess we have our work cut out then!~_  
  
Sunstreaker stifled a snort. _~For a moment or two.~_  
  
Quickly scanning the perimeter fence for access the twins silently planned their moves and Mirage remained silent, waiting for them to speak again.  
  
_~It’ll be best if we hit them from both sides~_ Sideswipe started. _~Give them more than one thing to think about at once, we should get a few hits in before they have time to collect themselves.~_ Sunstreaker wordlessly nodded his agreement and Sideswipe continued. _~We’ll cut an entrance just where those trees sit on he other side of the fence, that’ll give us some cover until we’re ready to announce ourselves.~_  
  
Observing the movements of the Drones as his brother relayed their intended strategy, watching them pass each other and counting their steps before they both turned and closed back in on one another, Sunstreaker finally added his Intel to their plan. _~We need to attack forty seconds after they pass each other, that way they’ll be far away from each other while leaving us room to move in.~_  
  
Now that they had a plan the twins could allow the rest of their battle coding to come on-line.  
   
//Thanks Raj//” Sideswipe’s tone hid the increasing beat in his spark as his systems prepared for battle.  
  
With unneeded words of luck from the spy, the fearless twins crept surprisingly feline like along the perimeter until they reached the cover of the trees. Pulling wire cutters out of sub-space Sideswipe contacted Skyfire’s central comm. before getting to work.  
  
//Can someone tell us if the fencing is connected to any security alarms?//  
  
//We’re not picking up any indications of an alarm.// Wheeljack replied. //But there’s evidence it’s an electrical fence, the current won’t be anything you can’t handle Sideswipe.//  
  
//Understood.// And on that note Sideswipe started snipping at the wired fencing, ignoring the mild shocks it gave him as he did so.  
 

Waiting for his brother to finish, Sunstreaker remained crouched a few yards away, optics trained on their enemy.  
  
_~Okay Sunny, we're good to go.~_  
   
The pair passed through the opening and scuttled alongside the edge of the trees that kept them shielded from view, before coming to the end of the run where they stilled for what seemed an age but was only seconds. Without any discussion both primed their blasters and Sunstreaker darted quickly across the open until he reached another small cover of trees, where he mirrored Sideswipe’s stance.  
  
Continuing to observe the faceless Drones ahead of them Sunstreaker counted them in, their spark beats synchronising with one another. _~Four…three…two…go!~_  
  
With a speed that most would have thought impossible with the added bulk of their second layer of armour, the twin front liners silently ambushed the trio of mechs, getting several shots in before any of the Drones realised what had hit them.  
  
For several moments the Decepticon Drones appeared to be stunned at the sudden attack, they had not picked up any indications that they were being stalked and it took them a moment or two to respond. The first task for the twins was to keep the flier on the ground and both took aim, Sideswipe striking one of his wings, tearing off almost half of the appendage and rendering him flightless, while Sunstreaker’s shot seared through the ruby visor.  
  
The winged mech fell to his knees, the shattered visor smouldering as processor cables burnt and melted. It was well known that the pain receptors of Drones were barely functional so the twins were not surprised that he scarcely responded to a pain that would have another mech writhing in a slow agonising death, and the only way to ensure this Drone stayed down would be to terminate him.  
  
However that would have to wait while the twins turned their attention to their fellow ground pounders. The two Drones finally responded to the attack and launched their own assault on the Autobot warriors. In response the twins quickly switched their blasters for their energon blades; sure they could do a lot of damage with their automatic weapons but they were so much deadlier with their blades.

Slicing through the air with precision, the pair left more than a few marks on their opponents.  
  
_~So Ratchet…~_ Sideswipe mused to his brother as he arced one of his blades through the air, the tip piercing the hardy armour in front of him, leaving a streak of torn plating. _~What d’you think is ailing him?~_  
   
As the other Drones fought, the downed flier opened a comm. line to his commander however all he received was a line of static. Blaster had done his job, blocking any communication between the Decepticons.  
  
_~Dunno.~_ Sunstreaker replied, at the same time bringing both blades down in front of him from above his helm, crossing his fore arms and curving the blades outwards as they bore down and making contact with black and purple shoulders. The damaged inflicted was only minor but it was enough to slow the relentless attack by the Drone. _~But whatever it is, he didn’t look right.~_  
  
While the melee between front liners and Drones become more violent, the injured flier rose to his feet and using his one partially working optic, he focused on the golden armour which flashed around him. With damage warnings filtered through his HUD, and his vision impaired, the Drone randomly fired around the ever moving Sunstreaker.  
  
_~Maybe we should talk to him.~_ Sideswipe suggested.  
  
Sunstreaker raised an optic brow towards his opponent. _~Because we’re the first bots he’ll open up too. Any other smart ideas in that glitched processor of yours?~_  
  
Sideswipe’s chuckle of mirth turned into a hidden smirk of violent promise as he sliced through his own opponent’s wrist, severing his hand.  
  
Meanwhile, the injured flier continued to take pot shots at Sunstreaker, his aim off due to the broken lines of optical information but as he took shot after shot a lucky laser shot struck the younger twin when he inadvertently moved into its path whilst avoiding the Drone he fought with. With a momentary cry of pain, plating on Sunstreaker’s upper left arm burned as the laser fire ripped through his battle armour before penetrating his metallic skin, tearing at small lines and cables there. His blade fell from his hand as it spasmed in reaction to the searing pain and Sunstreaker stalled for a moment before the pain quickly abated.  
  
With their bond fully open Sideswipe clenched his jaw while Sunstreaker’s pain coursed through to him, his grip on his own blades tightening until the feeling passed. From the corner of his optic he could see the Drone that Sunstreaker had been engaged with move to take advantage of his brother’s temporary distraction, a mistake that Sunstreaker would not normally make.  
  
Seeing that the Drone was about to get the upper hand with his twin, Sideswipe gave Sunstreaker a prod through their bond before he hollered a chilling promise at the mech in front of him, sealing his fate. The game playing was over now and with a deft flick of his twin blades, the crimson warrior sliced one through a vital energon line in the Drone’s neck whilst the other was thrust up into his chest, piercing the spark chamber.  
  
Stopping in his tracks the Decepticon raised a servo to his neck as darkly hued energon flowed freely from one of the two gaping wounds left behind after Sideswipe withdrew his blades, the light from behind the red visor flickering. Before the Drone hit dirt Sideswipe was at his brother’s side, his energon stained blades taking over the attack as Sunstreaker stumbled backwards after his opponent swung his blaster, striking the front liner across his chest.  
  
_~C’mon Sunny, concentrate!~_ Sideswipe nudged through the bond again.  
  
Shaking the fuzz out of his processor Sunstreaker growled his disdain at their foe and immediately homed in on the injured flier. The Drone now moved sluggishly as circuits within his helm shorted and Sunstreaker reached him quickly, disarming him with a single deft move. Placing the tip of his lone energon blade against the dark chest plating the front liner raised his injured arm to the Drone’s face, rubbing his thumb over the full face mask before ripping it off, exposing his true facial structure and damaged optics. Grabbing the chin strut in front of him the golden armoured mech roughly forced the exposed face of the Decepticon towards his own masked face. He wanted to be the last thing the Drone saw before he off-lined him.  
  
With a detached voice, Sunstreaker asked. ”Any last words?”  
  
The Drone stared back wordlessly, acting very much the mindless Drone that  they were believed to be, his lone working optic dilating as it focused just before Sunstreaker drove his blade deep into the heavy chest plating, grunting with the force he put into it. Sliding it deeply finally he pierced both chamber and spark. Keeping a hold on the Drone’s face and using his blade to hold the mech upright, Sunstreaker's stony optics bore into the wavering ruby ones as he watched his life ebb away.  
  
Not even Sideswipe’s disturbing cry of satisfaction broke the trance that Sunstreaker was in, or the sound of the second Drone Sideswipe took out hitting the ground. Even when the older twin moved to Sunstreaker’s side, placing a servo on his heavily armoured shoulder, Sunstreaker remained motionless as time around him stilled. It took Sideswipe surging through the bond to pull Sunstreaker back around.  
  
_~You can back away now Sunny, he’s dead.~_ There was no warmth radiating from Sideswipe’s side of the bond, just the satisfaction that they had done what they needed to do.  
  
Releasing the chin strut and withdrawing his blade, Sunstreaker watched as the lifeless form crumpled down in front of him. With his spark beat racing Sunstreaker looked down at his injured arm, retracting some of the additional plating there so he could see his life energon seeping from the wound.  
  
With his still icy optics Sideswipe moved exceptionally close to the golden frame and reaching a hand out to the injured plating, he ran a finger across the gash that the laser had left. Dipping a deadly fingertip into the laceration, Sunstreaker hissed with the pain that shot through his sensors, darkening the optics that watched his twin's every move before he clunked his forehelm onto Sideswipe’s.  
  
Not forgetting why they were here Sideswipe opened a link to their Prime, relaying one simple word. //Clear.//  
  
Never faltering from his ministrations on Sunstreaker's arm, Sideswipe dragged the pain out as his optics now bore into Sunstreaker’s own and he relished in his brother’s hurt. With his battle mask sliding away, Sunstreaker’s pain was visible on his face and his broken vents ghosted over Sideswipe’s mask, sending a shiver through his frame. Just like any routine they may have before going into battle, whether it was the donning of their battle armour or simply taking a moment of contemplative silence, this too had become a ritual, the most vital of all.  
  
When injured in a battle their energon was so pumped up that most of the time they felt very little pain, only knowing about an injury when for example, the damaged arm would not work or they would stumble on an impaired leg. When they did feel anything it was momentary, just like it had been in this battle, but the discomfort would quickly pass as they became even more disconnected from what they were doing.  
  
So this _ritual_ had become their most important one and despite the some sort of sick pleasure they both garnered from it, it reminded them that they were both alive, inside. They both knew how disengaged from reality they could be in battle, how they could shut down anything within them that would hinder what they had to do but when all was said and done, when fight was over and the kill completed, they needed to remind each other that they still felt.  
  
Over the stellar-cycles several mechs has been witness to this act which only added fuel to the perception of some, that there truly was something wrong with the twins.  
  
Suddenly they heard approaching footsteps, bringing them back down to Earth. Sunstreaker quickly lifted his helm, sliding his mask back into place along with his protective armour on his upper arm as he pulled his injured appendage from his twin’s hand.  
  
The whole battle had taken no longer than twenty minutes from start to finish and as the three deactivated Drones lay sprawled on the energon stained ground, the energon spattered front liners were joined by the others. An anonymous snort of derision echoed through the dark as the fruit of their labour was laid bare for all to see. Despite both still teetering on edge, Sideswipe rested a hand on Sunstreaker's arm before the younger twin could turn his wrath on the offender. Calming his twin over their bond his cold optics looked over golden shoulder spikes towards their Prime and Optimus gave a small nod, the only way he would relay any sort of thanks.  
  
Optimus Prime could never, would ever feel gratitude over the killing of even a Drone but he would be forever grateful that the twins had their backs, and that he could rely on them to do what was required so that he could protect his soldiers.  
  
Now that the Drones had been neutralised the Prime could move his team to their target. Whilst Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had dealt with their opponents, Mirage had invisibly slipped through the entrance, his mission now to ensure that there were no nasty surprises along the way. Once the Drones were down, Jazz had also slipped by, ignoring the twins and their little _game._ He had known the pair a very long time and he knew how things worked with them.  
  
Slowly, team A made their way through the corridors leading directly to the lab that Megatron was currently plundering whilst team B crept through the back passages, hemming in the Decepticons. Unfortunately, the head start the Cons had on the Autobots paid off as the sound of Megatron telling his troops to pick up the carefully contained chemicals and withdraw, echoed down the corridor currently being stalked by his foe.  
  
Picking up their pace the Autobots stormed the lab just as the Decepticon leader followed his mechs through the hole in the roof they created on their arrival. Rushing forward, Bumblebee, Bluestreak and the twins futilely opened fire but their marks had gone, Megatron only stopping briefly enough to allow a sly smirk to cross his face before he turned his back and left the mighty Prime and his Autobots to their clean up duty.  
   
  **~|~**  
   
The mood aboard the shuttle was subdued. They had failed in their mission and now the Decepticons had in their possession something that would aid them in whatever their latest quest was, and none of the Autobots knew what it could possibly mean.  
  
Except there was an Autobot who knew exactly what this meant, but he could barely bring himself to think about it.  
  
Jazz broke the silence. “Seems we are ignoring the one question that needs to be answered."  
   
“And what is that Jazz?” Prowl’s clipped tone responded.  
  
The blue visor flashed as the saboteur’s silence dragged out the suspense. “How’d the fragging Drones get here in the first place?”  
  
Several optics darted back and forth as though each mech was looking to another for an answer, and it was Wheeljack who responded. “Space Bridge!”  
  
A collective gasp sounded around the hull while Jazz nodded his agreement with the engineer, a smile dancing across his lips.  
  
“Impossible.” Ironhide intoned. “We ain’t had spacebridge technology for millennia.”  
  
“We were in stasis for millennia.” Wheeljack reminded the weapons specialist. “Anything could’ve happened.”  
  
Murmurs slowly filtered through the crew, most thinking that if there was a space bridge present here on Earth then just maybe, they could finally go home.  
  
However it was not the idea of returning to Cybertron that was the Prime’s first thought. “If this is true then we may encounter further Drones, making our job here a little harder.” The unwanted sentiment was shared by his fellow officers.  
  
“Stuff Earth!” Gears snorted. “If the Cons are returning to Cybertron, why do we need to be here?”  
  
Optimus fully understood why his mechs wanted to return but life really was never that simple. “If only it was as easy as that Gears. If the Decepticons were planning on returning to Cybertron in the near future they would not have transported additional forces to Earth. We also know they have not harvested nearly enough energon to power our planet again and I do not believe that Megatron will leave this planet until he bleeds it dry.”  
  
Gears didn't want to agree but he knew his Prime was right.  
  
Wheeljack rubbed a servo over his face mask. “I should've realised.” He said to no one in particular. “Some of the components they’ve gone after in the past, with a little engineering they could be utilised to create a space bridge.”  
  
“None of us could've known Jack, not ever Prowler came up with the possibility of a space bridge here on Earth in his stats.”  
  
Prowl’s optics cast a sideways glance at his fellow second in command but he remained mute. It was true, he would not have in a million stellar-cycles, come up with that one.  
  
Helm fins flashed dark blue with Wheeljack’s annoyance at his own failure. “ _I_ should've known.”  
  
Sat beside the engineer, Ratchet absentmindedly patted his friend’s upper leg in reassurance. His processor however was elsewhere.  
  
Whilst the idea of a possible space bridge on Earth still bandied around the crew, and the officers discussed what this could mean, the twins watched Ratchet.  
  
_~He’s still too quiet Sunny and I really think we should try talking with him.~_ The crimson mech didn't like a subdued Ratchet, subdued meant an injury was bad, subdued meant that not all was as it should be.  
  
Sunstreaker vented a gentle sigh. _~He barely said a word as he patched up my arm, what makes you think he’ll talk?~_  
  
Sideswipe shrugged. _~We have to at least try. Maybe we can get him overcharged on highgrade, see if he’ll open up then.~_  
   
Turning to his brother, Sunstreaker raised an optic brow. _~And how d’you propose we do that!?~_  
  
Raising his brow in amusement Sideswipe called across to where the officers sat huddled together. “Yo Jazzy, how’s about a get together tonight. A bit of music, some highgrade, maybe try cheer us bots up after this.”  
  
Jazz looked at his Prime, silently seeking permission. Optimus nodded his agreement, even he was feeling the need of some sort of release from the tension which plagued him. Turning back to Sideswipe, Jazz intoned. “I think you have a plan there Siders. We haven’t had a good old party for a while, think we all need to chill for a bit.”  
  
“Great.” Sideswipe grinned back. “And I think the hard stuff's called for too.”  
  
Only Sideswipe could go from killer to party planner in such a short period of time.  
  
A small ripple of excitement was shared amongst the other mechs aboard Skyfire while Sideswipe turned back to his twin. _~So, all we need to do now is get Ratchet to the party.~_  
  
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at Sideswipe in thought. Ratchet liked a good party as much as the next bot but Sunstreaker felt that getting him there this time would be a task in itself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet hurts the twins, but will they just walk away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the long old chapter that just would not end.

Sunstreaker lay quietly on the med berth whilst Ratchet finished tending to the laser wound he had received from the Drone. The younger twin was feeling a little unnerved at the medic’s behaviour as other than to instruct him to lie down, Ratchet had not uttered any other words. Laying there Sunstreaker tried to ignore the constant prodding from Sideswipe, he knew what his twin wanted but as far as he was concerned setting up the party and getting Ratchet over charged in hope that he would open up to them was Sideswipe’s idea so he could do the leg work.  
  
Sideswipe sat on another berth, Hoist cleaning and treating the minor lacerations on his plating, ensuring rust didn't set in before his self-repair nanites could do their job. _~What you waiting for?~_ He hissed at Sunstreaker through their bond.

A small growl of annoyance reverberated in the eerily silent med bay but if Ratchet heard it he didn't acknowledge it; instead he continued reconstructing the small lines and cables that had been severed when the Drone’s shot cut through the golden plating.

 _~It’s your idea.~_ Sunstreaker groused. _~You can be the one he tells to frag off, besides, I’m the one whose plating his tools are too close to.~_

Dilating his optics in faint annoyance Sideswipe silently whined, _~Do I have to do everything?~_ At the same time his vocaliser pierced the uncomfortable air in the med bay. “So Ratch, you joining the party?”

The question went unanswered.

“Oi, Hatchet!” Sideswipe shouted. He knew he was walking a very thin line when Ratchet already had tools out but he was determined that he and Sunstreaker would get to the bottom of whatever was ailing _their_ medic.

This time Sideswipe had provoked a response and the white and red mech swivelled his helm in the direction of the offending call, the promise of the medic’s wrath clear on his face. “If you know what’s good for you Sideswipe, you’ll keep your slagging vocaliser off!”

Sideswipe was undeterred. “Aw c’mon Ratch, we all need to chill out and you’ve not seemed yourself since we had the alarm call.”

The front liner witnessed something new flicker across the medic’s face before Ratchet turned his attention back to his task, and his back on Sideswipe. Whatever it was that flickered across the pale face plates silenced the crimson mech and for once, he didn't know what to say.

Suddenly in fear that the secrets, dark secrets, he had kept buried for so long came tumbling out, Ratchet only allowed himself to speak a few simple words. His mind swirled with a myriad of thoughts and finishing Sunstreaker’s treatment he threw his tools into a cleaning tray and with a curt “you can go,” he quickly strode to his office, shutting himself away before Sideswipe could say anything further.

Hoist had also finished his treatment of Sideswipe’s wounds. “All done.” He commented as he handed over a vial of anti-rust solution for the front liner to use before he busied himself with collecting his and Ratchet’s tools.

 _~Okay, now I’m worried.~_ Sunstreaker pulled himself up off the berth. _~He’s really acting strange. Maybe we should talk to someone, Jack’s prob’ly best, he won’t tell us to frag off and mind our own business.~_

 _~Agreed.~_ Sideswipe now stood alongside Sunstreaker. _~Engineering lab?~_

_~Engineering lab.~_

**~|~**

Not bothering to activate the lights in his office Ratchet slunk into his seat. The only evidence that told of his presence in the room was the dim light from his optics accompanied by his slow venting. wearily dropping his helm back on his chair, he succumbed to a few memories that had been clamouring for his attention.

The memory that won through was when he first witnessed how cruel and calculating Shockwave truly was.

_A large servo handed Torque a syringe of dark purple fluids. “With most of our medics now out in the field it falls to you to administer the trial compound on the patients.”_

_“But…that’s a healthy mech in there.” The medic cried. “Further tests need to be run before we can confirm whether or not the mix is stable before we can start administering it otherwise…” Torque paused for a kilk. “It could kill him?”_

_Shockwave pinned him with his cold stare. “Are you refusing to do your job, medic?”_

_Torque looked at the syringe in his servos, turning it carefully before placing the test sample on the tray beside them. “Yes.” He mumbled be fore he resolutely added, “Yes I am.” He sounded far more confident than he felt._

_“And that is your final word?” The Decepticon scientist asked._

_The smaller mech mutely nodded, he knew that if he spoke again his vocaliser would falter in his anticipation of Shockwave’s reaction._

_Turning his back on Torque, Shockwave busied himself with a data pad and the medic was not sure what had just happened. Finally getting his legs to work the blue and white mech made his way back to his desk, a little unnerved at Shockwave’s response, or lack of it, to his refusal to carry out the trial._

_After a few tense breems the doors cycled opened and one of the latest lab recruits arrived. A young mech who was not of a warrior build so had been drafted to help out in the research labs; recording data, fetching and carrying and any other duties that may be required after most of the medics had been sent out into the field, most destined never to return._

_Torque watched the dark grey mech as he stopped in front of the Decepticons chief scientist._

_“What can I do for you, Sir?” He asked. The assistant had only been at the lab a few cycles and this was his first encounter with the foreboding purple mech._

_Without breaking away from his data pad Shockwave spoke in an insipid even tone, but it was the medic whom he addressed. “Are you quite sure Torque that you will not administer the sample on the patient waiting in the test room?”_

_Optics flickering in confusion, Torque assumed that Shockwave must have privately commed the young assistant and hesitantly he replied. “As I said, the mix could kill the test subject so yes, I am quite sure. It is my duty to discourage the trial.”_

_“Step forward.” The purple Decepticon now addressed the mech  he had called to the lab. The lab assistant complied, his optics darting over to Torque as he did so. Suddenly a large purple hand reached towards the syringe and with a swift movement, Shockwave pierced a main energon line in the smaller mechs neck, injecting the dark fluid._

_Torque flew from his seat the moment he realised what was happening but the dose had already been administered, the small frame writhing in Shockwave’s other hand for a few moments before the scientist dropped him to the ground like a use rag._

_“What did you do!?” Torque cried as he dropped to his knees alongside the panicking mech. The medic looked at him, this new recruit was barely out of mechling-hood and now, the chances were that he had just had his life ripped away from him._

_Shockwave moved to the doorway but before he left he turned to the blue and white medic who tried desperately to convince the youngster he would be okay, and simply stated. “No point in wasting a test subject. I want preliminary reports on my desk before the cycle is over and this matter, you do not have a choice in.”_

_The medic stared at the empty doorway, stunned at what had just happened until a cry of agony from the mech he now cradled in his arms,pulled his attention. Looking back at the young face,Torque noticed that his optics were dark and distant._

_“So mu…much pain.” The mech stammered, his venting becoming rapid. “Burning in…inside…”_

_Torque quickly pulled a scanner from subspace. “It’s okay.” He soothed. “You’ll be okay.” But the truth was, the Decepticon medic had no idea if the young mech would be okay as none of the samples had even passed their lab tests, let alone be ready for testing on live beings._

Ratchet forced the memory away. He had not been able to bear it the first time around and reliving it was no easier, not when he knew what destruction his work would bring to his home planet.

The young mech had in fact survived. He had come through the other side of the trial he was forced to endure but that in itself was the beginning of the end of his life, for his survival finally gave Shockwave everything he needed to advance with his plans and the young Decepticon recruit became the test subject that all Drones were modelled on.

It was this event that had led the younger Ratchet…Torque to investigate what Shockwave was up to, revealing the true horror of what had been going on behind closed doors over the stellar-cycles. It was this event that shaped not only the future of Cybertron but the future of a medic, one whose vocation in life was to help others.

Remaining in the darkness of his office Ratchet opened a draw in his desk and pulled out a cube of energon. For a few moment he toyed with it in his servos, as though to study it until finally he raised it to his lips and consumed half the contents before lowering the cube back to the desk. Leaning his helm back the medic shuttered his optics as the burn of highgrade coated his intake before spreading through the rest of his lines, numbing his frame.

While the sensation continued to spread he relished the buzz within his processor as he allowed himself to fall into an exhausted recharge, all thoughts dissipating into blackness, for now.

**~|~**

Optimus Prime rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his battle mask as he thought over recent events. He sat with Jazz, Prowl, Ironhide and Wheeljack, going over what they had discovered. They had discussed the Drones and whether the three they encountered were the extent of the Drone army, all that was left of a force they had long thought gone, or did the Decepticons have the means to _create_ them again.

They had also discussed the reality of the Cons having a fully operational space bridge at their disposal. It was the only way the Drones could have made it to Earth and now they deliberated on how they were going to locate said bridge as it was surely to be hidden away.

Prowl took over the discussion. “I suggest we split the valley into sectors and send the Teletraan probe out. By recording data sector by sector it will be less overwhelming and we will be less likely to both retrace our own footsteps and miss anything.”

“What’ll we be looking for exactly if it’s hidden away?” Ironhide rumbled.

Wheeljack, studiously reading through plans on his data pad, mumbled “energy spike.” Tapping his finger on the pad a few more times he looked up at the group. “The space bridge will be throwing out a whole load of energy, even while the connection between Cybertron and Earth is closed.” Wheeljack then slid his data pad across to Optimus. “I pulled together the list of the Decepticon haul over the stellar-cycles and after removing what we have managed to destroy or confiscate, with a few calculations I confirm that almost everything else can be adapted and utilised in the building of a space bridge.”

Optimus briefly read the information Wheeljack had provided. A lot of it was a plethora of glyphs he had never seen before but he understood the important parts. “So we are all agreed that first things first, we locate the site of the space bridge.”

With his command team all nodding their helms in agreement Optimus opened a conference call to the Teletraan1 hub while Prowl walked over to the computer station.

//Blaster at yer service Prime//

//Blaster, prepare the probe to go on a scouting mission.//

//Sure thing Prime. Directive?//

//I am sending through the plans now.// Prowl responded. //I have divided the valley into sectors, work the probe over each sector and report the data before moving to the next. Wheeljack informs us we are looking for an energy spike. Anything you detect, no matter how small, report it.//

//Reading you loud and clear Prowl.//

With Prowl uploading the plans Optimus finished up the call, reiterating Prowl’s last words. //The moment you find anything Blaster, report to us.//

//Will do Prime. Blaster out.//

“So, with that sorted I guess the last topic of conversation is Ratch.” Jazz intoned as Prowl sat back down.

A heavy silence shrouded the mechs around the table.

“We all knew that this cycle could come.” It was with a heavy spark that Optimus spoke. “We always had a contingency plan when on Cybertron, in the event of Ratchet’s cover being blown we would relocate him, start the protection process again with a new identity already created but circumstances have changed since then, no longer affording us that luxury.”

Wheeljack shifted in his seat. He was fully aware of that contingency but he always hoped they would never need it. He had known Ratchet since before the war, known him when he was Torque. They had studied at the same academy where they became firm friends and had been inseparable. They complimented each other in their friendship and the thought of sending Ratchet off, alone to start a new life had always left Wheeljack cold.

The engineer was ecstatic for his friend when Torque was offered the position on Shockwave’s team, of course the Decepticons back then where not the Cons they were now, not on the surface anyway. They were the voice of the people of Cybertron, there for those who could not be heard, who the Senate would not listen to and although he would miss him Wheeljack had known an opportunity like this may not come again for his friend.

Neither of them could ever have guessed how it would end and it was Wheeljack who Torque had turned to when he needed help…

_The engineer transformed out of his vehicle mode as he arrived outside a small lockup in the scientific district of lower Iacon. It had been a while since he had been to his personal lab as he was part of Team Prime now and most of his work was carried out at Autobot HQ, but there were a few parts he required that he knew he had stashed away here. Punching in a security code he was startled by a dirty figure stumbling from the shadows._

_Pulling out his blaster Wheeljack faced the stalker squarely. “Step back or I’ll fire!"_

_Wheeljack was more than a little stunned when a ragged but familiar voice replied, “Primus, they let you loose with a weapon!”_

_Lowering his blaster Wheeljack took a step closer. “Torque?” He questioned. His finger was still posed over the trigger, it was hard to know who to trust these cycles and he shouldn't have been out this way on his own, not when the Prime’s personnel command team were high on the Decepticon target list._

_The tired and dirty mech stumbled the last few steps into the dim street light, exhaustion finally taking over him. With his frame crumpling to the ground, he mumbled “Jack.”_

_Finally coming out of his stunned stupor Wheeljack subspaced his blaster and finished keying open the door to his lab before bending down to bundled the medic into his arms and stumble into his former sanctuary. Ordering the lights up he lay his old friend on the small berth he had set up in a makeshift office._

_Now that Torque’s frame was fully illuminated shock ran through Wheeljack. The medic’s plating was battered and filthy, he looked as though he had been sleeping rough for Primus knows how long. Wheeljack didn't know what to think. It had been a long time since he had last heard from his friend, since he himself had even tried to contact him so in all honesty the Autobot engineer didn't even know if Torque was still alive. They had kept in touch after Torque relocated to Kaon but it had become too difficult, too dangerous to keep up the contact as the war between Autobots and Decepticons escalated._

_To be friends with a Decepticon would be frowned on by some fellow Autobots, not all would trust such an alliance, no matter how old the friendship but for a Decepticon to be allied to an Autobot, discovery would result in death, that is after the slaggers had tried to manipulate the friendship to their own ends. Wheeljack had insisted that they maintain a distance for Torque’s sake and over two millennia had passed since they had last spoken._

_Giving the rundown frame one last glance over, ensuring there were not any major injuries, the Autobot rummaged through his subspace and pulled out a cube of energon. Kneeling beside the prone Torque he levered a servo under his helm and tilted it so that he could try feed some of it to the mech._

_“Torque, can you hear me?”_

_The Decepticon remained mute but his optics flickered dully._

_“You need to get this energon into you, can you take a sip?” The engineer gently pressed the edge of the cube against pale lips and the medic slowly sipped, almost choking on the liquid before swallowing it. The process was slow but eventually Torque consumed half the contents before Wheeljack pulled the cube away. It was obvious that the medic had not energised in a while and Wheeljack didn't want him purging what he had managed to drink. Finally Torque’s optics stopped flickering and he tried to raise himself off the berth._

_“Don’t try to move my friend, you need to rest. We’ll talk later.” Wheeljack was desperate to know how Torque had ended up here,in the state he was, but that could wait. For now his friend needed to recharge._

_It was several joors later when Torque next woke. Wheeljack had busied himself looking for the parts he came for and whilst he waited, he even started tinkering with a few old projects. Hearing a creak from the berth Wheeljack entered the office area to find the blue and white mech sat on the edge of the berth, still groggy._

_“Torque.” He ventured. “Are you okay?”_

_Looking up at Wheeljack with lifeless optics Torque found it difficult to respond. How could he tell his long time friend what he had done, what he had been involved in?_

_Sitting on the berth the engineer placed a hand over one of Torques and he could now feel the slight tremble in the medic’s frame. Tightening his grip Wheeljack pushed. “What's happened Torque? Has someone…hurt you?” He couldn't imagine that anyone would want to hurt his friend but he had not spent any time with him for a very long time, was he even the same mech that Wheeljack knew?”_

_“Oh J…Jack.” Torque’s voice trembled just as much as his frame. “I…I’ve done something so, so terrible.”_

_Wheeljack’s helm fins flashed several shades of blue in his confusion. “What could you have done that is so terrible?” Yes Torque was a Decepticon but that didn't necessarily make him a bad mech. When the Decepticon faction first came to be it was out of a bid for freedom that they were born, it was only after millennia of fighting did they become something altogether more sinister._

_“I can’t…” Torque couldn't finish what he was saying._

_“What is it Torque? You trust me, right?”_

_Torque looked his old friend, letting moments pass until he finally uttered. “I…I’m a murderer.”_

_If Torque had not looked so broken and had not been in the state he was in Wheeljack would have laughed at that comment. Torque’s vocation in life was to save lives not take them. Wheeljack understood that could have changed over the eons, Torque could have changed as long gone was the time when a Decepticon was given any choices, but the part of him who knew the mech deep inside knew he would not have allowed his motives to change, whatever the circumstances._

_Handing back the remainder of energon that he had given to Torque earlier, Wheeljack finally replied. “I’m sure that’s not true, Torque. Was it a patient, did you lose a patient?”_

_The medic shook his helm. “No.” He murmured, his optics locked firmly on the cube. ”I’ve killed thous…thousands. I’ve helped wipe out entire ci…cities.” His vocaliser broke._

_Wheeljack didn't know what to make of Torque's confession but he seethed inside. This war had a lot to answer for. So much for fa war for freedom; all it had done was turn caring mechs into killing machines._

_T_ _aking a deep vent and quelling his anger at what they all had to do to survive, Wheeljack slowly responded. “We’ve all had to take lives.” Memories of his own kills filtered through the engineer’s processor. “If you’re a murderer then so am I, we all are.” His voice was full of the remorse he always felt for the lives lost, but they were at war, what else were they supposed to do?_

_“No, you don’t understand.” The cube in the medic’s servo rattled as his servo shook erratically. “The Drones, I…” Wheeljack watched silently as his friend shuttered his optics before he vented deeply. “I helped create them.”_

_That, Wheeljack did not expect. Now his helm films flashed a whole kaleidoscope of colours as he tried to fathom his feelings over that little revelation. How could that even be possible? It was well know that they were Shock…wave’s…Drones, everything clicked into place and Wheeljack tried very hard not to flinch from his friend. ‘No!’ Wheeljack thought. ‘There has to be more to it than that.’ Bracing himself for the answer, the engineer finally replied,_  “ _I think I need you to tell me exactly what you mean Torque, so there’s no misunderstanding.”_

_Wheeljack remained silent through the entire story, he wanted to let Torque get it over and done with as he could see the emotional drain it was having on the mech, pit, he was struggling himself. There was, as Wheeljack had thought, more to the story than just Torque being part of the Drones creation. He would be lying if he said that he didn't wonder why the medic had not left as soon as he discovered what was happening, but that could wait for another cycle as for now the engineer needed to help his friend._

_Squeezing the servo he held, Wheeljack stood. “Finish your energon while I make a call. You’re coming back with me.”_

_“But…”_

_“But what?” The Autobot cut in._

_Torque dropped his optics. “When others discover what I’ve done. I’m better off being left to die on the streets.”_

_Anger flashed across Wheeljack’s optics, his helm fins settling in a deep red. “How can you say that? I don’t know how you did it but you managed to drag yourself from Kaon to Iacon, and live to tell the tale and now you think I’m going to leave you to die.”_

_“I can stay here.” The Decepticon still wouldn't look at his Autobot friend. “I just need to hide. I’d rather die here than at the servos of Shockwave, not that I don’t deserve what he’d do to me but I am a coward.”_

_“No!” Wheeljack snapped. “You're not a coward. You are here and you had the courage to leave, and now you could have a new life with us. You could help us defeat that unstoppable army.”_

_Torque gave a small ghost of a smile. “Atone for my sins.”_

_“If that’s how you want to see it. You can restart again, put what you were created to do to good use, help us. I can do this for you, if you want it. I can help you. If you think you can believe in what we, the Autobots are fighting for, against, and support what Optimus Prime is trying to achieve then you could join us. We will protect you.”_

_“You can’t promise that.” The Decepticon still wouldn't look at his friend, his shame and guilt forbade him to._

_Wheeljack would do everything he could to protect his oldest friend. “I promise you I will do all I can to protect you, but you have to want it.”_

_The CEO watched deep blue optics flicker. He was secretly relieved to see that his friend had not changed his optic colour so the signature red most Decepticons had. It was only something small but it meant that Torque had not let go of that small part of him and a small seed of hope grew inside Wheeljack. Finally Torque gave a small silent nod of his helm and moving to the desk Wheeljack activated the comm device there, tapping in a code that would connect him directly to the Prime’s office._

_Wheeljack shook his helm as the connection was made. He had hoped that no one would discover his little excursion but now he would have to admit to leaving the base without back up and to top that off, he was coming back with a little more than he had planned to._

_It turned out that Prowl was in the Prime’s office at that moment and when he learnt of Wheeljack’s location he read the riot act to the CEO, reiterating the very real threat of contracts on the heads of the Autobot commanders. Eventually the Praxian finished his lecture allowing Wheeljack to finally get a word in and explaining that he was currently in the presence of a Decepticon medic was not easy. Neither was telling the Autobot commander and one of his seconds that he wanted to bring said Decepticon back with him._

_Wheeljack felt uncomfortable talking about Torque as though he were not present but if he wanted Optimus to allow Torque to come in with him, the CEO would have to explain at least the basics. Wheeljack was relying on the compassion of his Prime and the cold tactics of Prowl; The first so that they would offer help and protection to the medic, and the second, if Prowl could see the tactical side of having the mech who claimed to be behind the creation of the Drones on their side, he would encourage Optimus to grant the Decepticon refuge._

_To Wheeljack's relief not only did the Autobots offer the medic as safe a haven as could be offered in war, they totally rebuilt his life from scratch until Torque became the Ratchet they all knew, feared and loved._

The CEO was drawn out of his reverie by the deep voice of his commander. “Wheeljack, are you okay?”

Wheeljack flustered for a moment as he cleared his processor. “Yes, I’m fine, just, well I was thinking about when Ratchet...” It was a rule that they had, nobody would ever acknowledge Ratchet’s former name, no matter what the circumstances were as the wrong bot could be listening. “First came to me for help. We promised him, I promised him that that life was behind him, that I would protect him.”

“Unfortunately Wheeljack, we cannot completely erase the past but we are not about to cast him out in fear of what may come, if that is what you are worried about. Ratchet is no less a part of this team as the rest of us and he has become a true friend to many of us.”

Not realising that he held his air Wheeljack vented in relief at the Prime’s words.

Ironhide reached a servo across to Wheeljack, placing it on his shoulder. “We’re all in this t’gether Jack and old Hatchet ain’t rid of us that easily.”

Jazz and Prowl murmured their agreement.

“Ironhide is right.” Optimus continued. “Besides, we may be jumping the gun here. Just because of these latest developments it does not mean Ratchet’s cover is about to be blown.”

“I agree.” Prowl added. “Yes, there is a chance that Ratchet’s past could become public but we have no evidence to suggest that any of the Decepticons even realise who Ratchet is. If they did then we would have expected them to come after him a long time ago. I suggest we continue as we were for now, although we will have to be extra vigilant where Ratchet is concerned but our primary objective is to find that space bridge.”

The Prime rose from his seat. “Then that is what we will do. Jazz, Prowl, I’ll leave it with you two to prep the crew for our search for the space bridge. In the meantime I will see if I can hail Megatron and arrange a meet before we steam ahead all guns blazing.”

“You sure that’s wise Prime?” Ironhide asked. “I say we let ‘em have it.”

Optimus raised an optic brow at his old friend. “How about we try my way first Ironhide, maybe we will garner more information that way and if all fails then yes, we will _let them have it_.”

That seemed to pacify the weapons specialist for now as Optimus dismissed the group.

**~|~**

The twins wandered down an adjacent corridor to the medical wing, finding Wheeljack’s lab locked when they arrived.

“Hmm!” Sideswipe pouted. “He’s usually here this time of day.”

Sunstreaker checked his chronometer. “We’ve only been back an hour Swipe, he’s prob'ly still in debriefing or maybe catching up on recharge. We’ll just come back later.”

Sideswipe pouted further. “But we need to get some energon then catch up on recharge and then we’re on shift until the party starts. What if we don’t get chance to speak to Wheeljack before the party…” The front liner barely paused to vent until he was interrupted.

“And what can I do for you two ruffians?” Wheeljack’s optics sparkled with momentary mirth as Sunstreaker scowled at him, his humour echoed in the flashing of his helm fins. Wheeljack was one of the few mechs aboard the Ark who had a soft spot for the twins, and probably the only one who could get away with calling them such names.

Sunstreaker gave a half-sparked sneer at the pet name Wheeljack had for them but it quickly slid away. The larger front liner found it difficult to be snarky with the engineer as Wheeljack always made time for them. “Swipe would like to ask a favour.”

Wheeljack gestured for the twins to precede him into the lab. “Oh, and what can I do for you Sideswipe?” The CEO’s optics were already watching Sideswipe’s movements as the crimson mech picked items up, studied them and put them back down.

“Oh yeah.” Sideswipe stopped behaving like a youngling in a toy store. “D’you think you can persuade Ratchet to come to the party later?”

“I’m guessing if you’re asking me he’s already turned you down?”

Sideswipe shrugged. “If you call ignoring me when I asked him turning us down, then yeah, you guess right.”

The engineer looked from Sideswipe to Sunstreaker but they just stared back in anticipation. Wheeljack was aware of how the pair felt about his friend and knew how Ratchet truly felt about them, but Wheeljack also knew the reason why Ratchet always rejected them. Sometimes he wished for their sake that they would give up, it would be easier all round but he also felt that in a strange way the twins could be good for Ratchet, despite what others thought about them.

“You know mechs I really don’t think he’s in the mood for a party right now.” Wheeljack turned away from the twins and started tinkering with something from his table, guilt filling his spark that he couldn't tell the twins anything, but protecting Ratchet was of paramount importance to the engineer.

“So you noticed too.” Sunstreaker commented.

Whipping his helm around to Sunstreaker, helm fins flashed a dark blue as Wheeljack tried to figure out what the twins knew. “Noticed what?”

Now it was Sunstreaker who looked confused. “Ratchet’s mood.” He replied slowly. “He hasn’t been right since the alarm call.”

“Yeah.” Sideswipe added. “We thought maybe we could…”

Sunstreaker jumped into their bond. _~Don’t tell him you want to get him overcharged, he might not help.~_

“…try cheering him up.” Sideswipe finished. _~Give me some credit Sunny.~_

Wheeljack studied the twins again and wondered what they were up to.

“C’mon Jack. He’ll be the only one not there and he really needs cheering up.” Sideswipe flashed his killer smile at the engineer. “Don’t suppose you can tell us what’s ailing him?”

Hesitating for a moment and taking care not to say the wrong thing, he opted for a simple “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at the engineer until Wheeljack vented softly. He wondered if it was such a good idea, persuading Ratchet to attend the party, but he didn't want to leave Ratchet alone for the rest of the cycle and he felt the need to unwind himself. “I’ll be making my way to the med bay shortly so I’ll see what I can do.”

Sideswipe’s grin got a little wider. “You’re a pal Jack.” And he slapped the shorter, stockier mech on the shoulder as Sunstreaker led the way out of the lab.

“I can’t promise anything though.”

The words went unheard as the twins were already on their way to grab their energon before making up for lost recharge.

**~|~**

Sideswipe curled into Sunstreaker’s side, his dark helm resting in the crook of his shoulder with an arm stretched lazily across golden chest plates. It didn’t matter how much he tried he just couldn't cycle down into recharge. Staring at the wall ahead of him he was plagued with images that jumped between the Decepticon Drones and Ratchet, but it was Ratchet who concerned him more.

Sunstreaker’s systems gently idled but he was far from recharging. “Stop thinking will you!” He groused.

“Can’t help it.” Sideswipe vented a soft sigh, warm air ghosting across Sunstreaker’s chest and the younger twin tightened his hold, pulling Sideswipe even closer than seemed possible.

“Then let me pull out of the bond so I can recharge.” Sunstreaker mumbled. “It’ll be hard enough staying alert on monitor duty as it is.”

Fingers idly traced the edge of golden chest plating. “Don’t want to.” Sideswipe sulked, his energy twined with Sunstreaker’s.

Arching his frame sideways in an attempt to get away from the tickle of Sideswipe’s fingers, Sunstreaker unshuttered his optics. “You’re not going to let me recharge are you?” His own energy welcoming Sideswipe’s despite his words moments ago.

Sideswipe propped himself on his elbow, hand moving from Sunstreaker’s side to the Autobot insignia over his spark, outlining the symbol they served under. “You could take my processor off things.” He purred, his optics darkening.

“Don’t think I’ve the energy.” The golden mech deliberately avoided looking at Sideswipe as he knew the look that would be on his face, it was one he could rarely resist.

A jet black servo slid back across Sunstreaker’s chest to his injured arm and fingers skimmed the still healing plating, pressing against the ragged edges. Sunstreaker’s optics flared brightly for a moment as a sharp pain spiked through him. Growling, Sunstreaker turned his helm to face Sideswipe and before he could say anything his brother was pressing his lips hard against his mouth, his glossa demanding access.

Across the bond a mixture of want and need stabbed through and Sunstreaker willingly parted his lips, both mechs groaning as the heat of their mouths mingled, Sideswipe’s glossa teasing.

Sunstreaker, feeling Sideswipe’s worry, one he shared about Ratchet, deepened the kiss. They could both do with taking their mind off him. Sideswipe shifted his frame climbing on top of Sunstreaker, their lips never parting and Sunstreaker shuddered when Sideswipe ground his heated panels into his.

 _~Sure you still want to recharge?~_ Sideswipe smirked against Sunstreaker’s mouth.

Biting down on Sideswipe’s lower lip, Sunstreaker caused the crimson mech to yelp. _~Seems I’m fully awake now.~_

With a quick jerk of his frame Sunstreaker flipped their positions, pinning Sideswipe to the berth below him before using a powerful thigh to part Sideswipe’s legs. Thoughts of Ratchet were temporarily forgotten to both of them and replaced with images of their earlier fight with the Drones; each strike of their blade, each cut on their enemies plating, their energon blades doing their bidding.

Lips met again but this time the kiss now more urgent, darker, whilst Sunstreaker pressed as much as his frame against Sideswipe as he could, grinding his hips down hard, servos roughly pinning crimson and white arms over his twin’s helm. Lust shot through the older twin and a scandalous smirk crept into their kiss, it would seem that Sunstreaker was going to be rough with him, which was just what he needed right now.

**~|~**

**Later that night…**

Sunstreaker slid down the wall outside of his and Sideswipe’s quarters until he sat on the floor, his legs pulled up at his knees. The small recoil in the hunched over frame of the mech already there was the only indication given that the silent mech knew he had company. Knees were pulled up to a broad chest, arms hugging them tightly while a chevroned helm was buried in white arms.

Finding Ratchet like this had sobered Sunstreaker up pretty quickly. The front liner hadn't consumed a great deal of highgrade, still it was enough to be overcharged but all of a sudden the fog in his processor had cleared.

 _~Sideswipe, you’d better get to our quarters.~_ Whatever was going on with Ratchet, Sunstreaker was going to need back up from his twin.

Sideswipe had consumed far more highgrade than Sunstreaker and he knew his brother was drinking away the hurt over Ratchet’s recent words, ones they had not expected and when Sunstreaker left the party, Sideswipe and Jazz were belting out a few karaoke tunes. That was when Sunstreaker decided to call it a night and head for their quarters. If he had been a bit more overcharged then maybe he would have stuck it out but he was also smarting from the torrent of hateful words that the medic had earlier spat at them, and he needed some alone time, so finding the white and red mech slumped outside of their quarters was a little surprising to say the least.

 _~I told you I’d be along later. Unless of course you’re spread out on our berth waiting for me, then I’ll be there in a flash.~_ Sideswipe sent a burst of desire through the bond which was quickly stonewalled by Sunstreaker.

_~No you glitch, I’m not. You just need to get here, now!~_

Disappointment welled through the bond and SUnstreaker knew Sideswipe would be pouting. _~Primus, where’s the fire?~_

 _~SIDESWIPE!~_ The younger twin roared through their bond.

_~Calm your diodes Sunny, I’ll be there in a moment or two.~_

Sunstreaker stifled a frustrated growl. Unsure whether his twin would actually get around to being here in a _moment or two_ , he hesitantly placed a hand on Ratchet’s arm. He had to start somewhere. The medic remained motionless and Sunstreaker panicked a little, what if there was something wrong, as in physically. “Ratch…Ratchet.” He vocalised softly. “Are you okay?”

Ratchet mumbled something that sounded pretty much like _frag off._

The front liner withdrew his hand and rested his helm against the wall. _‘Where the frag are you Swipe?’_ he thought to himself as the minutes passed by. With the silence stretching between them Sunstreaker decided to try again but this time he kept his hands firmly on his knees. “Talk to me Ratchet, I know something's wrong.” Sunstreaker vented. He wasn’t sure what he could say to help but he could listen.

Still Ratchet remained motionless.

Just as Sunstreaker was considering calling Wheeljack and Ironhide his train of thought was interrupted when the sound of slurred singing was heard coming through the corridor.

“Did I ever tell you you’re my h…heroooo, and everything I would like to be…eeee?...” The singing moved closer. “I can fly higher than an eeeeagle…Hey, I’m an eeeeagle…”

Sideswipe rounded the corner which led to their quarters, his arms outstretched to the sides and not batting an optic over the fact that Sunstreaker was sat outside their quarters, the older twin increased his drunken gait before throwing himself to his knees and slid towards Sunstreaker, arms still outspread.

“ 'cause you are the wind beneath my…wiiiings.” Stopping short of his golden twin Sideswipe dropped his arms and quickly shuffled forward on his knees before leaning in to try and plant a kiss on Sunstreaker's lips. It was then that he realised Sunstreaker had company and turning his helm to the still form beside his brother, he mouthed, _Oh!_ before vocalising a firmer, _“Ohh!”_

Sunstreaker glared at Sideswipe before shaking his helm. If he had not been so worried about Ratchet he would have thrown a few choice words at the killer front liner, but then again if he had not been sat here worried about the medic he would probably still be at the party, drinking before stumbling into their berth.

Sideswipe sat back on his pedes, staring at the medic.

 _~He hasn’t moved since I arrived.~_ Sunstreaker told him. _~I just found him here and so far all he’s done is tell me to frag off.~_

Just as with Sunstreaker, the sight of Ratchet like this had a near sobering effect on Sideswipe. _~If he wanted you to frag off, then why’s he here?~_

_~Beats me.~_

The twins just sat in silence, watching and waiting for, well they didn't know what they were waiting for.

_~Talk to him Swipe.~_

Slowly getting to his feet Sideswipe moved to Ratchet’s other side and shifting away the empty energon cubes with his foot, he slumped to the ground beside him. He might be feeling more sober than when he arrived but he was still extremely overcharged. A jet black hand reached out towards the mostly white frame huddled alongside him but Sideswipe quickly withdrew it. Maybe that was not the best course of action. “Hey Doc, what gives?”

Ratchet still refused to respond. The only thing that stopped the twins worrying that the medic had gone off-line was the fact that in the silent hallway they could hear Ratchet’s systems gently humming along with his slow, heavy vents.

Sunstreaker mentally prodded Sideswipe so that he would try again and this time Sideswipe reached out and touched Ratchet’s arm. “Look at me Ratchet.”

Both front liners watched as a white helm twitched before slowly turning to the face Sideswipe. Ratchet kept his helm on his arms and stared at Sideswipe through bleary optics, his brow furrowed below his chevron. “Told you to fff…rag off!” he slurred.

“That was me.” Sunstreaker dead panned form the other side of him.

A half sparked snarl sounded but it petered out as silence descended over the three of them, all momentarily lost in their own little worlds but each sharing the same thoughts.

**~|~**

**Earlier in the rec room…  
  
** “Hey Ratch, you look like you could do with some company.” Sideswipe intoned as he threw himself on a chair next to Ratchet. Sunstreaker took the chair opposite, keeping the table between him and the medic, gauging his mood.  
  
Ratchet had finally been persuaded to join the party by Wheeljack, or rather he was practically dragged there and after locating a table in the corner the only time he moved was to get more highgrade. Wheeljack had been keeping him company but he had been cajoled into a card game with a few others. He tried to get Ratchet to join them but the medic was just relieved to be left on his own, maybe now he could make good his escape.  
  
Except now the twins had decided to join him before he had the chance to vacate the table. As they sat down he clenched his hand around his cube of highgrade, his spark pulses speeding up. Keeping his dim optics on the table the medic chanted to himself, _‘go away, go away, go…away…’_ He really didn't need this right now.  
  
Sideswipe shuffled closer to him.  
  
_‘Slag.’_ Ratchet thought as he began to feel a little uncomfortable. It was always a battle enough to stop his frame heating up when in close proximity to the twins but now he was overcharged, it might prove impossible  
  
“So,” Sideswipe continued regardless of the cold shoulder the medic clearly gave them. “We’re glad to see you decided to come along.”  
  
Now there was a hand laid gently on Ratchet's arm, sending small tingles through his plating and the medic allowed himself to enjoy it for a moment before jerking his arm away. The action sent his cube skittering across the table towards Sunstreaker and Ratchet looked up in horror as it neared the golden mech. It was still half full of highgrade and Sunstreaker wouldn't be happy if it ended up all over him.  
  
A gold hand shot forward, halting the receptacle in its tracks. A small amount of deeply hued liquid slopped out, splattering on Sunstreaker's hand and as Ratchet and Sideswipe watched, Sunstreaker raised his hand towards his mouth. Both his twin and the medic remained motionless as Sunstreaker’s glossa darted out and he licked the droplets from his fingers.  
  
Ratchet could feel Sideswipe fidget beside him as he fought to calm his own desire, his overcharged processor wondering how much longer he could he keep turning down their advances. At that thought an image of old popped into his processor quickly followed by a few more, reminding why he had to stay away from them. He didn't deserve them or whatever it was they were offering him.  
  
Coming back to reality the medic found himself suddenly slamming a clenched fist on the table before quickly rising to his feet. The force of his movements shifted the table, knocking it against Sunstreaker’s frame. Ratchet winced in anticipation of Sunstreaker’s reaction before starting his verbal tirade on them.  
  
“When the frag will you pair get the hint? I’m not interested in you, either...of...you!” He punctuated. “Why you keep pursuing me is beyond me and frankly, you’re both out of your tiny little minds, deluded even for thinking I would be interested in a pair of reprobates such as you.”  
  
It hurt Ratchet to his very core to hear these words pour from his vocaliser but he had to do it. He had to send them running in the opposite direction; it was the only way he could protect them from the truth and from his lies. Lies to cover lies, when would it ever end?  
  
If Sunstreaker hadn't been shocked by the barbed comments that were hurled at them with something akin to hate, at the very least he would have risen from his seat in order to intimidate the medic into submission, but he found himself unable to move, the cruel words pinning him down. Sideswipe also found himself speechless, each word cutting a little deeper. His optics remained glued on the venomous medic while his clenching spark reached out for Sunstreaker.  
  
Sure, the twins had been rejected by Ratchet time and time again but never had the medic’s words of rejection been fired at them with such venom, or such contempt. In part they had felt that each rejection was a game which the three of them played but now Ratchet had become hateful towards them, and it seemed that he hadn't finished yet.  
  
“I never will be interested in either of you. I abhor everything you stand for. You hide behind this mask of a loyal Autobot, fighting for the greater good…” So now he was a hypocrite as well as a liar. “But in reality you’re just a pair of energon thirsty killers!”  
  
The room was deathly silent now, all optics on the table in the corner, all audials finely tuned in order not to miss so much as a syllable.  
  
“And as for anything ever happening between us, I’d sooner berth,” The medic looked around the rec room until his optics landed on a gleaming mech in the corner. “ _Tracks!_ ” He spat at them.  
  
Ratchet’s spark felt constricted in his chest and he thought he would keel over from the pain of the lie. Rudely shoving past the crimson twin, Ratchet narrowed his optics at Sunstreaker. “I suggest you stay out of my way and I don’t want to see either of you in my med bay any time soon!” Walking away from the table the medic threw one last comment at the twins. “Unless it’s life or death, and even then you’d better be certain you need to be in my med bay!”  
  
Steadying himself from the gentle swaying caused by his disorientated gyros, Ratchet stormed towards the stock of highgrade and swiping a small pile of cubes he promptly left the party.  
  
Everyone in the rec room had heard the one sided spat and whilst one or two sniggered at the twins getting their comeuppance, a few gave concerned looks while others just stared in shock. It was no secret how the twins pursued the medic and whilst most didn't believe that they were serious, the very small close knit group of friends the twins kept knew otherwise.  
  
Optimus and Prowl had finally decided to join the party when Ratchet wordlessly breezed past them, Wheeljack hot on his tailpipe, and the pair where quite surprised to see the stillness of the rec room, neither aware of what had just occurred. Their appearance suddenly jolted everyone out of their stupor and quickly they all went back to whatever they had been doing before Ratchet's tirade.  
  
Ratchet must have brushed Wheeljack off as the engineer soon reappeared in the rec room looking slightly flustered and heading for the twins.  
  
“What happened!?” He demanded, his optics narrowed at the pair. The twins looked blankly at the CEO. “Something must have set him off.” Wheeljack vented.  
  
Sunstreaker was too shocked at what had just unfolded to feel anything. Ordinarily, if a mech had spoken to him and that manner he would be seeing red by now but all he could do was stare at the engineer. Wheeljack looked between the twins, their faces telling him that they were in as much shock as the next bot and Wheeljack's demeanour suddenly changed. “Look, please don’t take what he said to spark. He’s going through a rough time at the moment.”  
  
Sideswipe frowned. “What’s happened Jack?” His voice was small, controlled, the complete opposite of how his spark was reacting.  
  
Wheeljack looked at the crimson mech. “It’s not my place to say Sideswipe but please, just give him some time. I know he doesn’t mean what he said.”  
  
“Sounded like he meant it to me.” Sunstreaker growled. He had finally found his vocaliser.  
  
Bluestreak and Jazz joined the group, the second in command laden with various brews of highgrade and Wheeljack took that as his cue to leave. “Just give him time.” He repeated as Jazz settled down alongside Sideswipe, Bluestreak taking the space next to Sunstreaker.  
  
“I’m sure he didn’t mean what he said.” Bluestreak gently vocalised. “He’s probably overcharged.”  
  
“Yeah.” Jazz intoned. “Take it from me, _that_ was the highgrade talking.”  
  
Sunstreaker drained his current cube before snatching another one from the table. “And there’s me thinking the highgrade was the elixir of truth!” His words were clipped as he fought with the hurt that tried to embed itself within his spark.  
  
Sideswipe remained unusually quiet as he stewed over Ratchet’s words.  
  
_~Maybe we should call it a night.~_ Sunstreaker suggested to Sideswipe. Right now shutting themselves away was all he wanted to do. Why he had looked for anything outside of his relationship with Sideswipe was beyond him. Sideswipe had always been more than enough for him, quarrels and annoying habits included, and maybe that is just how it should remain.  
  
_~But it’s Ratchet.~_ The crimson twin's thoughts were almost whispered. _~We can’t walk away.~_  
  
_~Think he’s made his feelings about us clear, don’t you!?~_  
  
Sideswipe avoided optic contact with his brother. _~But that was the highgrade…~_  
  
_~C’mon Swipe, you don’t believe that d’you?~_ Sunstreaker sorely wished it was true. He hated the thought of walking away from the one mech they had fallen for, just as much as Sideswipe.  
  
Truth was, Sideswipe _needed_ to believe it was the highgrade and that Ratchet didn't mean what he had said. He toyed with his drink. _~So we’re giving up?~_  
  
It hurt Sunstreaker to feel Sideswipe’s wretchedness, his disappointment, but Sunstreaker couldn't see how they had any choice in the matter. _~It’s for the best Swipe.~_  
  
Optics cast down, Sideswipe silently nodded whilst Sunstreaker soothed him through the bond. Why couldn't he alone be enough for Sideswipe?  
  
Sideswipe’s optics shot up. _~Don’t ever think that Sunny! Don’t ever think you’re not enough for me but it can’t always be just the two of us.~_ The older twin’s optics held Sunstreaker's.  
  
_~It was good enough before and I don’t think we have much of a choice.~_ Sunstreaker masked his sadness behind and air of indifference, only Sideswipe knew exactly how his twin was feeling.  
  
The twins stared intensely at one another for a few moment until Bluestreak’s laughter pulled Sunstreaker’s attention away and although the front liner paid little attention to what was being said, he watched the sniper’s animated face as he relayed a story to Jazz. Sideswipe’s attention was now on the younger mech too but he kept the tendrils of his spark tightly entwined with Sunstreaker’s. He needed his twin, would always need him.  
  
Suddenly there was a presence looming beside Sunstreaker, sending his tanks roiling at the energy signature which bled from the mech. Turning his helm, a sneer already on his face, Sunstreaker was met with a smirk that he just wanted to wipe of the red face plates.  
  
“Tracks.” He monotoned.  
  
“Sunstreaker.” The warrior drawled. “Maybe I should take Ratchet up on his offer.” He paused, a smirk crawling across his mouth. “I’ve heard he goes at it like a turbo-rabbit…”  
  
Jazz, Bluestreak and Sideswipe all froze at the audacity of the warrior; this surely would not end well.  
  
Cold optics blinked before Sunstreaker broke the suddenly stagnant air. “Whatever, Tracks.” He snarled, turning his back on the mech.  
  
Bluestreak’s mouth gaped open then closed before he opened it again. Finally he closed it when he couldn't find a single word to say. Jazz let a wry smirk creep across his lips. The best way to deal with Tracks was to be indifferent and he was quietly proud that Sunstreaker had not reacted. Sideswipe silently raised an optic ridge at his brother before sliding another cube of highgrade across to him.  
  
Tracks gave his own snarl in response to Sunstreaker’s back but before he could add anything further Jazz addressed the mech. “I suggest you find yourself something else to do Tracks, unless you want to spend the night in the brig.”  
  
Glowering at the golden front liner a few seconds longer, Tracks vented in aggravation. Failing to get a reaction from the resident maniac was no fun at all, and a little embarrassing. Finally, having no intention of spending the night in the brig, the trouble maker retreated.  
  
An hour passed after the incident and the three mechs with Sunstreaker became progressively more over charged whereas Sunstreaker now drank at a slower pace, his mind only slightly fuzzy. He could feel the hurt still in Sideswipe’s spark, the same pain that was in his own, but he could feel the veil that the highgrade provided and he relaxed a little at seeing Sideswipe being his usual self.  
  
Blaster decided that now that mechs were well oiled it time for some of them to exercise their vocalisers on centre stage. A few of the room’s occupants groaned, deciding this would be a good time to call it a night while others cheered. Jazz jumped from the table dragging Sideswipe with him. “C’mon mech, you owe me a duet!”  
  
Sideswipe didn't need telling twice, not when it gave him the chance to make an exhibition of himself and Sunstreaker dilated his optics in mock exasperation as the two would be singers vacated their seats, Sunstreaker and Bluestreak taking their places at the table so that they could watch the spectacle.  
  
By the time the third track started up the golden twin decided that enough was enough. _~I’m done Swipe.~_  
  
Sideswipe continued to sing. _~It’s only early.~_  
  
_~It’s been a long cycle and as you insisted in not letting me recharge after we finished in the med bay…~_  
  
_~Didn’t hear any complaints.~_ Amusement flickered through the bond.  
  
_~Whatever glitch, I’m off to our quarters.~_  
  
Sideswipe hit a high note in the song he was singing, earning a round of applause from his comrades. _~Be back later.~_  
  
_~Try not to wake me.~_  
  
All he received in response was another trickle of amusement. Standing up Sunstreaker waited for his gyros to stabilise before turning to Bluestreak. “Keep an optic on him Blue, not sure he’ll find his way back to our quarters tonight.”  
  
The sniper chuckled. “He can crash with me if he finds the trip to your wing too difficult.”  
  
“Well don’t let him take advantage of you.” He didn’t think for a moment that Sideswipe would but his twin was hurting badly and was on his way to being pretty wasted, and Sunstreaker thought that maybe Sideswipe would try seeking solace from their friend. “On second thoughts, maybe I should stay ‘til he’s ready to leave. Keep an optic on him.”  
  
“He’ll be okay here with us.” Bluestreak replied. “I promise I’ll bring him back to your quarters if you want to go.”  
  
Sunstreaker glanced over at Sideswipe again, his optics watching the gentle sway of his frame as he moved to the song he sang to before turning back to the red and grey mech. “Thanks Blue.” Giving his friend a small smile Sunstreaker left the party revellers to it.  
  
**~|~**  
  
**After Ratchet left the party…**  
  
Ratchet pushed past the Prime and tactician as though they weren't there, offering no apology for his rudeness, Wheeljack following in his wake, helm fins flashing a pale red as he turned to apologise for barging through too.  
  
Catching up with his best friend the engineer slowed beside him. “What the slag was that about Ratch?”  
  
The medic picked up his pace. “Go back to the party Jack.”  
  
Ignoring Ratchet, Wheeljack grabbed at his arm, stopping him and swinging him around so they were face to , face. “Not ‘til you tell me what’s going on! What you said to the twins…”  
  
“Was the truth.” Ratchet growled. “Now go back to the party!”  
  
Standing his ground Wheeljack pressed the medic again. “I know you didn’t mean it Ratch. Now why don’t you go and talk to them, they looked pretty cut up.”  
  
Something dangerous flashed in Ratchet’s optics as he seethed. “If you don't leave me the slag alone I _will_ disconnect something vital!”  
  
Pulling out of his friend's hold Ratchet continued his route through the corridor. Before he disappeared he called over his shoulder to the dumfounded CEO. “Don’t follow me Jack and don’t bother sending anyone after me either!”  
  
Before Wheeljack could compose a response the CMO had rounded the corner out of sight.  
  
The moment Ratchet was finally alone he slowed his pace. His spark and mind were reeling over his actions as he tried to understand what had just happened and letting his feet lead the way he finally came to a standstill, finding himself staring at the door to the quarters that the twins shared. He had no idea why he had come here after leaving them in the rec room with his poisonous words.  
   
Ratchet tried to purge the memory but everything he had said to them kept repeating itself and maybe this was his penance. Still, he had no idea why he was here at their door or why he found himself moving towards the wall between the corridor and their sanctuary before sliding his frame down the wall. Placing the cubes of highgrade he had taken from the rec room on the floor beside him, he lined them up neatly before picking up the first one.  
  
He couldn't rid himself of the shocked and wounded looks on the faces of the twins and as he downed the highgrade, the images tugged at his spark while his cruel words floated around his processor.  
   
_'You’re both out of your tiny little processors, deluded even for thinking I would be interested in a pair of reprobates such as you.’_  
  
_‘You’re just a pair of energon thirsty killers.’_  
  
The medic thumped his helm against the wall behind him. How could he have been so cruel to them? He had always been offended on their behalf when he heard what some of the others called them, especially knowing that they did what they did for the protection of others, and he had just been as bad as the others, except he had been much crueller. Then to top it off he had to go and claim that he would rather frag the one mech he knew Sunstreaker really couldn't abide. Oh Tracks must have loved that and he would undoubtedly see that as a one up on the golden mech.  
  
Ratchet continued to make his way through the highgrade he had swiped, hoping it would supress his thoughts and feelings, but instead they just clamoured for his attention all the more.  
  
With his mind clouding over the twins were at the forefront of it. There wasn't any way he was going to be able to take back what he said to them, it was out there, truth or not and all had heard it. He had gone out of his way to belittle them but as much as it hurt him to do so, he didn't see what choice he had. They were relentless in their pursuit of him and Ratchet would give anything, _anything_ to accept their advances and share his life with them, but it was impossible.  
  
Despite his manner towards them he had long ago fallen for the duo. It had been a gradual affair as he had spent most of his time either hunting them down for a verbal bashing or putting them back together. The hunter/prey routine they had going stemmed back to their cycles on Cybertron and over time it became something much more to him, Ratchet realising he was in trouble when he found he missed them not turning up in the med bay.  
  
With a shaking hand the CMO reached out for another cube only realising they were all spent and the medic growled in frustration. He was nowhere near as obliterated as he wanted to be as clearly he was still able to think. Wrapping his arms around his raised knees he rested his forehelm on folded arms as he drifted into a light recharge, one filled with wild imaginings…  
  
_Sideswipe’s cheeky grin._  
  
_Sunstreaker’s penetrating gaze._  
  
_Their athletic frames so close to his own as he treated them._  
  
_Those finely constructed yet deadly hands with nimble fingers that could kill in an instant, but which undoubtedly he always imagined, could tantalise just as dangerously._  
  
_Now there was a small single red light trained on him, unnerving him, moving towards him and Ratchet felt himself drawn to it despite his deep seated need to get away. As it came closer a form materialised and Shockwave held him in his cold stare._

An involuntary shudder coursed through Ratchet’s frame.

_N_ _ow the medic could see the shadows whitch followed the scientist, countless red slivers of light; a result of the masks that the shadows wore.  
  
He needed to get away but he was backed against a wall, his very real panic rising within him. Shockwave remained motionless, emotionless as his ‘pets’ began to clamour towards the medic, reaching for his plating.  
  
The black hands of the Drones morphed into a myriad of dull and damaged colours while pained cries begged for release from their torture and just as he was about to be overwhelmed by the grabbing hands, he was pulled out of harm’s way.  
  
There were flashes of crimson and gold before they became still and in the darkness, his imagined rescuers circling him, casting their optics over every part of his frame. He felt exposed, as though his plating had been stripped until all that remained was his protoform, the faint light from his spark creating dancing shadows.  
  
“You lied to us!”  
  
“You pretended to be one of us!”  
  
“Countless lives were lost because of you!”  
  
Sill the mysterious pair circled him as they closed in and as they came into the light the only thing he could make out was their cold icy optics; the faceless stares from behind battle masks further adding to their taciturnity. _

Ratchet knew that stare and it sent a second shudder through his frame.

_Then he heard a gentle sound that was akin to energon blades being unsheathed and still his rescuers turned captors pressed closer.  
  
“You deserve to die like the Decepticon you are!"  
   
He was not sure which one of the two snarled that last comment but he was pretty sure they would both make good on it.  
  
One of the faces was now a vent away from his and he could almost feel the hate that emanated from behind the shield that covered it, detached optics boring into his own.  
  
“You are nothing; you deserve nothing, least of all our love.”  
  
Ratchet shrank back from the hate, from the words. He knew he deserved the vengeful words but he just couldn't face them.  
  
Now battle masks had vanished and there were two faces looking at him, the coldness gone. _

_One wore a mischievous grin, the other a smirk and Ratchet felt himself figuratively relax at the familiar gazes while need to reach out and caress them weighed down on him, but he couldn't move; an unseen force keeping his arms by his side as though taunting him that he could look, but he could never touch.  
__  
He could see them mouthing words at him but couldn't make out any sounds and he desperately tried to hear them, but he was deaf to whatever they said. Then a dark light flickered in the matching optics as a spark deep hurt etched itself across their visages and his spark ached more than he could ever imagine._  
  
Then suddenly there was nothing, just darkness as the fictional images faded away and finally his mind become blank as he immersed himself in the shroud of darkness, his spark aching to the point of agony.  
  
Ratchet had no idea how long he had sat there, lost in his little world of black and it was the slow approach of footsteps bringing him out of his light slumber that reminded him that he was not lost; that he was somewhere even if right now he didn't want to be there. The footsteps slowed to a stop beside him and for a moment there was nothing until he heard the sound of metal sliding down metal.  
  
The medic tensed his frame in a natural reaction; it could be anyone sat beside him but he found he simply didn't care. The pair remained silent as the hum of a well maintained system mixed with his own and Ratchet knew exactly who was with him, but he refused to acknowledge the mech. The last thing he expected was to feel the hand that rested on his arm but he gave no indication that he was aware of it; it was the words in the quiet hallway which startled him.  
   
“Ratch…Ratchet. Are you okay?”  
  
Ratchet could hear the concern and guilt ate at his spark. Sunstreaker shouldn't be wasting his emotions on him, not after what he had said to the twins and it was all too much for Ratchet, too overwhelming and he didn't want to deal with it. “Frag off!” He mumbled incoherently. The servo withdraw from his arm at his words and he ached for its touch again; his mixed feelings were tearing him apart.  
  
Either Sunstreaker didn't hear him tell him where to go or the front liner chose to ignore him as he spoke again. “Talk to me Ratchet.”  
  
The medic mildly mused about how difficult it must have been for the front liner to say that, to encourage someone to off load their problems, but Ratchet refused to respond. _‘Go away.’_ He thought to himself. _‘Go and find someone else…’ to love_ were the words he couldn't bring himself to think. The medic balked at his own thoughts; just because the twins chased him didn't mean they loved him.  
  
All of a sudden there was a racket echoing down the corridor, breaking his train of thought.  
  
“ 'cause you are the wind beneath my…wiiiings.”  
  
Even in his muddled processor Ratchet recognised Sideswipe’s voice, then it became hushed for a moment until he heard Sideswipe's exclaimed  _Oh!_  before the silence descended on them again. The medic was almost tempted to look up but even if he wanted to, he wasn't sure that he was capable of moving.  
   
There was clatter of depleted cubes being cleared away and suddenly Ratchet realised that he was flanked by the twins, the ones he had unleashed his wrath on. A few moments of silence echoed around him but eventually Sideswipe’s voice drifted through the fog in his mind. “Hey Doc, what gives?”  
  
Ratchet suppressed the urge to bristle at the question. He was torn between his anger at their persistence and his desperate want to give in and take their comfort. There was a tingling touch on his arm as Sideswipe spoke again. “Look at me Ratchet.”  
  
This time he couldn't quash the twitch of his helm, the disquiet that shrouded them was just too much. How could they behave towards him like this when he had been so vile towards them. Ratchet had told them he despised who they were and what they did for the likes of him, _because_ of him; if only they knew.

Turning his helm towards Sideswipe, Ratchet was met with a small frown. “I told you to fff…rag off!” He slurred.  
   
A flat response came from the other side of the medic. “That was me.”  
  
Ratchet attempted to snarl in retort but it hurt too much to move his face; it would seem that his hangover was setting in already and suddenly he wasn't sure how he came to be sat between the twins, or why they were being so concerned for him.  
   
  **~|~**  
   
The minutes dragged whilst the three Autobots sat there in stony silence until Sunstreaker heard the approaching footsteps. _~Someone’s coming.~_ He hissed through the bond. _~We can’t let him be seen like this, get him into our quarters.~_  
  
Pushing himself on his pedes Sunstreaker moved around Ratchet, crouching down so the medic could see him. “Ratch, you can’t stay here so we’re gonna help you up.”  
  
Ratchet seemed to be looking straight through Sunstreaker and the front liner had no idea if Ratchet had heard him, so he tried again. “Ratchet, we need to move.”  
  
Whilst Sunstreaker tried to get some sort of reaction out of the medic, Sideswipe wondered how he was going to keep himself stable on his feet let alone help with Ratchet as he was beginning to feel the effects of the highgrade after sitting down.  
  
Ignoring Sideswipe's inactivity, Sunstreaker bit back his exasperation. “Ratchet, we’re gonna help you to your feet, will you let us help you?”  
  
Shifting his optics to Sunstreaker, this time Ratchet replied flatly. “Don’t need your help.” He sounded defeated.  
  
The footsteps moved closer, they needed to move quickly.  
  
“Swipe, get up and open the door.” Sunstreaker snapped at his brother. “Ratchet, sorry but this is for your own good.”  
  
With Sideswipe stumbling to his feet and moved to their door, punching in the code, Sunstreaker grabbed one of Ratchet’s arms to uncurl him from his hunched over position, the older mech surprisingly not putting up a fight. Standing up Sunstreaker hauled the medic up with him and lowering his shoulder he lifted Ratchet up an over his shoulder, grunting as the weight settled.  
  
Ratchet began to fidget as he hung over Sunstreaker’s shoulder and the front liner vented his annoyance. “Quit moving before I drop you!”  
  
Sideswipe eventually opened the door after several attempts and Sunstreaker pushed past him, getting Ratchet out of the corridor and out of view, the medic finally coming to life and putting up a feeble attempt at fighting Sunstreaker, fists weakly hammering at his back plating.  
  
“Told you, don’t need help you pit spawned fraggers.” Ratchet mumbled.  
  
“Not giving you a choice.” Sunstreaker grunted again as the bulky frame moved about.  
  
As soon as Sunstreaker and Ratchet were through the door, Sideswipe followed, locking the door behind him. Quickly moving to their berth room Sunstreaker lowered the medic on to one of the two berths there and while he tried to lay the inebriated mech down, Ratchet’s servos darted up, grabbing the edges of golden plating in order to pull the younger mech towards him. Growling, Sunstreaker tried to pull away but Ratchet had a firm hold and not wanting to harm the CMO, Sunstreaker stilled. Ratchet had that look in his optics from the previous night, when they followed the Decepticons to the medical facility; the look that made Sunstreaker think the medic was not all there.  
  
Now that Sunstreaker was motionless Ratchet tried to overpower him and pulling him back down, Ratchet rose up to try and kiss the front liner.  
  
Shocked, Sunstreaker tensed his frame, clamping his mouth shut and damage to the medic or not, he roughly pulled himself away. “The slag Ratch!?”  
  
Ratchet’s dull optics looked at the golden warrior above him. “Thought sss'what you wanted…” he slurred. “Me in your berth.” Ratchet continued, grabbing hold of Sunstreaker again. The medic had this overwhelming desire to quench everything that plagued him, including his feelings for the twins. “Bet you’re rough.” He vented. “Time I found out.”  
  
Sunstreaker fought with Ratchet’s servos. “Swipe," he shouted, "Get in here and help me.”  
  
“I know how long you’ve wanted a piece of me Sunny.” Ratchet continued to gran Sunstreaker’s frame.  
  
Looking up at the ceiling Sunstreaker tried to ignore the cherry servos that groped at his plating. Suddenly Ratchet was on his knees, pawing at Sunstreaker and sorrow flickered through the front liner. It pained him to see Ratchet in this state and he only wished he knew what had caused it. For some reason he didn't think Ratchet's outburst in the rec room was the cause of all this, a side effect maybe but not the reason for this behaviour.  
  
“Not like this Ratchet.” He gently vocalised. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” _‘And it’s not just about ‘facing.’_  He sadly thought to himself.  
  
“Who are you, my caretaker?” The medic hissed.  
  
With Ratchet still pawing at him Sunstreaker rubbed at his optics. His processor was beginning to ache now and realising that his demand for Sideswipe's help hadn't yet been answered, Sunstreaker looked over his shoulder to find his twin was nowhere to be seen.  
  
_“Sideswipe!”_ he shouted as he sent a sharp prod to his brother.  
  
“Hmmm…mmm.”  
  
Pushing Ratchet back on the berth harshly Sunstreaker stalked into their living area. “Sideswipe, get your aft…” Sideswipe’s frame was sprawled on their couch, face down. “Glich!” Sunstreaker snarled to no one in particular.  
  
Hearing a thud come from where he had left Ratchet, Sunstreaker rushed back through to the berth room and he found the medic slumped against the wall, suddenly deep in recharge. Venting a sigh of relief the younger twin climbed on the berth, gently manoeuvring Ratchet’s frame until he was lying down before pulling the blanket from under the heasy frame and draping it over the recharging form.  
  
Moving across the berth Sunstreaker leant against the wall, fighting the urge to slip into recharge as he sat watching the medic, silently vowing that he would get to the bottom of whatever was plaguing the mech.  
   
  **~|~**  
   
**Moments earlier…**  
  
The owner of the approaching footsteps arrived at the junction between the corridor he walked and that of the wing where the twins were housed. The room the mech was heading to was further up the passageway but as he arrived at the end of this particular wing he heard sounds drifting up the hall, drawing his attention.  
   
A self-indulgent smirk crept along conceited face plates. ‘Well, well.’ He thought. ‘What do we have here?’  
  
The passing mech had arrived in time to see Ratchet hanging over Sunstreaker’s shoulder as he was carried into the twins’ quarters, Sideswipe close behind.  
  
With the door slipping shut behind the twins the watching mech vocalised to himself. “Taking advantage of the drunken Doc, eh!” and the contemptuous smirk curled a little further as the mech turned on his toe plate; suddenly the evening had become very interesting indeed, and maybe he wasn't ready to call an end to the fun just yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has been telling tales on the twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the most thrilling of chapters but it ties up chapters 1 and 2 before we hit 4, when Ratchet's secret is finally revealed.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, Sunstreaker must have finally slipped into much needed recharge as he suddenly found himself being roused by a combination of heavy banging on the door and the pinging of his comm. link. Cobalt optics flickered darkly as the racket echoed in his audials before he dragged himself across the berth from his seated position. Sitting on the edge of the berth Sunstreaker studied Ratchet’s still form while he answered his comm.

The front liner was dazed as he accepted the link. His initial thought was another Decepticon attack but the lack of warning claxon ruled that one out. //Jazz?//

//Where are you Sunny? I’ve been calling you both for the last two breems.//

//Recharging.// The front liner shook his helm, trying to clear the fuzz from it. //What’s up?//

//Dunno what you’ve done my mech but just want to warn you Hide’s after both of your afts.// Being overcharged the officer found the warning more amusing than it should have been, especially as Ironhide had left the rec room with purpose.

The sound of a cannon powering up reached Sunstreaker’s audials, its increasing drone accompanied by “If you slaggers don’t open up I’ll shoot this ‘ere door down.”

Sunstreaker grunted at the threat coming from outside his quarters. //Something tells me he’s already at the door.// Up on his feet Sunstreaker sent a command to the door, granting the older mech entrance while he quickly moved to greet him. //Speak later.//

//Laters Sunny.// 

All the front liner had wanted to do when he left the party was recharge. It had been a long cycle with Decepticon raid being carried out in the early hours of the Earth's morning, plus taking on the Drones had taken its toll on the front line twins, but after they returned to the Ark the twins had not done too much recharging before their scheduled shift started. Then there was the party that Sideswipe had organised in order to try and pull Ratchet out of his strange mood. Oh, how that one had back fired.

A moment of bitterness shot through Sunstreaker as he stalked through the living area. Ironhide was already stepping through the door before it had fully cycled open, his cannon winding down as Sunstreaker met him.

“What the frag’s your problem Hide?” Sunstreaker was not in the slightest bit amused, not at Ironhide’s aggressive intrusion and not at his twin who incidentally was still deep in recharge on the couch. He practically screamed through the bond. _~WAKE THE FRAG UP SIDESWIPE!~_ while at the same time kicking his feet off the arm of the couch.

Systems quickly snapping online and swiftly springing off the couch, Sideswipe’s battle protocols kicked in fast and hard, his dark optics staring ahead as he listened to the sounds around him; assessing his environment and the threat.

“Calm down, glitch.” Sunstreaker growled just before his twin activated his battle armour. Being surprised that way Sideswipe was preparing for the worst. “Primus, I only wanted you to wake up, not go into battle.” Despite his annoyance Sunstreaker pushed calmness through to Sideswipe, ensuring he did just that. 

With his systems shutting back down to a normal state, his demeanor and energy relaxing, Sideswipe staggered across the room. “Purge!” He spluttered as he dived for the waste bin near a desk.

Venting in aggravation Sunstreaker scowled at Ironhide. “Now’s not a good time Hide so whatever’s gotten your diodes in a twist, can’t it wait ‘til a more reasonable time?”

“Where is he!?” The burly mech growled. Ironhide was more than a little overcharged following the party, his threatening optics glassy as he stared his subordinate down.

Unflinching under his commander’s stare Sunstreaker frowned in confusion, his processor still thick from lack of recharge and for a moment he had no idea who Ironhide was talking about. “Who?”

One corner of Ironhide's mouth twitched, he was _not_ in the mood for games. “Don’t mess with me mech, now where’s Ratchet?” 

Ah, yes, the medic in his berth. Sunstreaker however was still none the wiser as to what the problem was. “Recharging.” The front liner nodded to the berth room. “Through there. Ironhide, _what’s_ the problem?”

Barging past Sunstreaker, Ironhide threw a warning glare over his shoulder. “If you’ve taken advantage of him I’ll knock you and your brother into the next vorn, d’you hear me?”

Swinging around to watch the commander enter his berth room Sunstreaker growled as his confusion melted into annoyance. “Like to see you try!” Clenching and unclenching his fists Sunstreaker worked at keeping a lid on things as his spark beat became heavy. He could feel Sideswipe in the background trying to keep him calm and gradually the heavy pulsing became more sedate.

Entering the berth room the older soldier found Ratchet deeply recharging, seemingly unharmed. “Heard you brought him here against his will?” Ironhide spun around to face the golden front liner, optics accusing. “Took advantage of him. Is that true?”

Shock flashed across Sunstreaker’s face rapidly followed by deep dark anger. _“How dare you!”_ He hissed, stepping towards his commander, his plating puffing out in an intimidating stance. “What kind of monsters d’you think we are!?” Sunstreaker's optics coldly glazed over. Commander or not, Sunstreaker would not accept such an allegation from the mech.

Ironhide, completely unperturbed by Sunstreaker’s intimidating reaction, narrowed his optics as he leaned towards the front liner. “Then why were you seen hauling an off-line Ratchet in here?”

Sideswipe, finally joining them, lent against the door frame to help keep him steady, his arms wrapped tightly around the waste bin in a hug. Working through the bond to pull his twin out of his spell of anger the crimson twin countered the weapons specialist’s accusation. “He wasn’t off-line, he was overcharged.” He paused to wait for his tank churning to pass. “Badly. Sunny found him slumped outside our door.” Sideswipe forced his vents to remain even, he really had over done it at the party. “Anyway, who told you we did this?”

Completely ignoring Sideswipe’s question Ironhide’s narrowed optics now glowered at the crimson twin. “Why didn’t you call one of us?”

“Does it really matter?” Sunstreaker seethed from behind him. It really was taking every ounce of his resolve to not knock his superior into the nearest wall. “We tried to get him to talk, he wouldn’t and when we heard someone coming we decided to get him out of the corridor, to you know, save his dignity. He’s been recharging ever since and as you can see, no harm done!” The younger twin thought it wise not to share the fact that Ratchet had tried it on with him once he moved him to the berth. Sideswipe shot a questioning glance at Sunstreaker as the thought ghosted through the bond but Sunstreaker gave small shake of his helm, telling his brother to leave it.

In a bid to diffuse the rapidly building tension between Ironhide and Sunstreaker, Sideswipe shakily stepped between the pair, the waste bin still cradled in his arms. “Listen Hide, you can see Ratchet’s fine, he’s just recharging off the highgrade so why don’t we leave him be. Come see him tomorrow instead. Now I really need to lie down before I purge again.”

Somehow Sideswipe had managed to start walking Ironhide to the door and out of their quarters whilst Sunstreaker sat back down on the edge of the berth. Sweeping cold, hard optics over Ratchet’s partially covered frame, his anger at Ironhide’s implication that they had been _inappropriate_ with the medic quietly simmered away. He and Sideswipe may be many things but they had never forced themselves on a bot; even in their relentless pursuit of the medic they never forced anything, and it angered him to know that someone thought them capable of such a thing.

After seeing the weapons specialist out of their quarters Sideswipe quietly watched Sunstreaker from the doorway, a lowly growl echoing through the quiet from the younger twin. “He’ll regret that accusation.” Sunstreaker’s anger echoed through the bond as he spoke.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it Sunny, he’s pretty overcharged himself.” Sideswipe moved to the berth to sit down, desperately fighting his need to crash. He really needed to calm Sunstreaker down but first he had a question. “Instead of worrying about his accusations shouldn't we be wondering who was watching us?"

Disdain coated Sunstreaker’s words as he turned his helm to Sideswipe, his lip furled in contempt, optics hard. “I’ve a pretty good idea and he’d better watch his glossy little face plates!”

Sideswipe smirked darkly from beside him, vigorously nodding his agreement. Bad move. The motion sent his gyros spinning and he purged his tank again.

Watching his brother’s sorry state Sunstreaker's ire began to recede. Making someone pay for false allegations against them could wait, none of them were going anywhere and first things first, he needed to take care of Sideswipe. As the last of his anger dissipated the younger twin looked up at the ceiling for the second time this night, sending a small silent request to whoever may be listening to him to just _please_ allow him to get some recharge.

Once he had finished purging Sideswipe shot his brother a sloppy grin. “Too much highgrade me thinks.” 

Already back on his feet and shaking his helm, Sunstreaker led his twin to the rarely used berth across the room, encouraging him to lie down on the outside edge, just in case he needed the waste bin again, and he carefully climbed over his crimson twin and settled down behind him. He could feel Sideswipe was still smarting from Ratchet’s torrent of words earlier, his own hurt a faint echo as he tried to conceal it, and wrapping his arm and spark around Sideswipe, Sunstreaker softly kissed the back of his helm. “Recharge.” He ordered. 

Already cycling down Sideswipe murmured “love you Sun” as he twined jet coloured fingers with the golden ones resting on his chest.

“You too Swipe.” Sunstreaker felt Sideswipe’s small smile through their bond. “Sometimes.” The smile turned into a pout before Sunstreaker squeezed him affectionately.

Hearing Sideswipe’s systems idle as recharge finally claimed his brother, Sunstreaker lifted his helm to glance at Ratchet. He hadn't moved so much as a circuit from the position Sunstreaker had lain him in and sure he would be out for the rest of the night, the front liner sent a command for the lights to shut off and slipping into recharge, he batted away the thoughts of the evening that swam around his processor until finally everything became blank.

**~|~**

Two slivers of flickering light stared up at the ceiling, watching non-existent movements dancing in the gloom. Despite the darkness of the room it was still too painful for the mech to fully un-shutter his optics and rubbing a servo over his face Ratchet groaned at his aching helm. At present his mind was completely blank and he could only hope that it would remain that way.

Shuttering his optics again the groggy mech began to initiate recharge again but it was then his memory banks decided to become active. He tried to fight the memories, to lock them tightly away but in his fragile state it was too much effort and broken lines of information flickered back and forth, taunting him…

 _A party._  

_Optimus Prime informing the crew that Megatron had invaded a medical facility._

_Sideswipe’s servo resting on his arm._  

_The inside of Skyfire’s hull as they waited to hear from the front liners._

_His venomous words directed at the twins._  

_Deactivated Drones on the ground._

_Wheeljack chasing after him down the corridor._

_The crew discussing the possibility of a space bridge being here on Earth._

_The voices of the twins floating close to him, words muffled._

_The floor moving…_ the floor moving? Slowing the memory down Ratchet saw there were golden legs moving below him.

_Laying on a berth, Sunstreaker leaning over him._

Nothing.

Another groan escaped his vocaliser and forcing his optics to unshutter Ratchet decided fresh air was what he needed to clear his mind. Sending a command for the lights to activate he stared blankly ahead when nothing happened. Brow furrowing deeply below his chevron the medic commanded the lights on again, but the room remained in darkness.

Rather rapidly the white and red mech sat bolt upright. _“Slag!"_  

With his gyros spinning dangerously out of control Ratchet scrambled to get off the berth, practically falling off the edge in his effort. Switching to night vision he made his way over to a wall and locating the override light switch he palmed the lights on, pain seared through his helm until he dimmed the light. Once he felt he could move without it hurting too much Ratchet started checking his frame over for any signs of interfacing. His tank roiled as he did as everything was so vague. Memory files were distorted but he just couldn't believe he would break his resolve over the twins, not after fighting his feelings for so long. If anything had happened between them then it _had_ to have been against his will.

Running an internal scan on his systems panic began to rise within and even when everything came back clear, he still continued to check over his external frame until further memories made themselves known… 

_His servos clawing at golden plating._

_Sunstreaker trying to pull away._

_“Thought this was what you wanted…”_

_Sunstreaker staring at him, his face full of concern._

_“…time I found out…”_

_Sunstreaker fighting off his invading servos._

_“…a piece of me…”_

_“Not like this Ratchet.”_

Realising what had happened Ratchet was instantly consumed with guilt for thinking such low thoughts about the twins. Looking around the dimly lit berth room his optics landed on two recharging forms pressed tightly against each other and for a few moments he watched them, mesmerised by the way they held onto each other. 

Now there was nothing that he didn't remember as he watched them.

_The hurt in their optics as he threw nasty, hateful words at them._

_Sunstreaker finding him outside their quarters, awkwardly trying to talk to him._

_Sideswipe turning up, concern evident in his vocals._  

_His own rudeness when all the twins wanted to do was help him._

_Sunstreaker throwing him over his shoulder._

_Being gently placed on the berth before grabbing hold of the golden front liner._  

_The overcharged words that tumbled out of his mouth as he came on to the younger twin._

_Sunstreaker’s patience, his kindness._  

With the last memory flashing through his processor the medic couldn't understand that why despite all he had said and done during the evening, the twins had gone out of their way to take care of him. He truly believed in the words he had imagined would be thrown at him should they ever discover his past… _You are nothing; you deserve nothing, least of all our love..._ because he felt unworthy of them, of their loyalty and care, and he certainly didn't deserve to be loved by them. A sudden overwhelming need to get away sent the medic rushing through the dark living area, scrabbling along the wall for the pad to open the door.

WIt’s door closing behind him, putting a barrier between him and the twins, Ratchet sagged against the wall, composing himself. Slowly calming down, arranging his thoughts the medic recognised a nearby energy field. “What do you want Tracks?” 

Sauntering towards Ratchet in his usual arrogant manner the polished blue and white mech came to a standstill in front of the CMO, and drawled. “ _Good night,_ Ratchet?”

Peeling his frame from off the wall the medic scowled at his unwanted companion, his words from the previous evening were already haunting him both in his processor and in reality. “Haven’t you somewhere else to be?”

Tracks studied his perfectly manicured hand, ignoring the negative energy rolling off the white and red frame. “Hmmm, yes but I think you and I first need to have a little... _chat_.”

Ratchet’s tank was beginning to churn again while his processor pounded. He had moved through the twins’ quarters far too quickly and now he was suffering the consequences. “Maybe later.” He mumbled as he began to make his way up the corridor. The fresh air would have to wait as he needed to get to his med bay and get some much needed minerals inside him.

Unfortunately Tracks was not easily disposed of; he never could take a hint. “I’ll keep you company.” Falling in step alongside the medic Tracks leered at him. “Anyway…”

Ignoring the warrior, Ratchet put all of his concentration into moving his frame, one foot in front of the other...

“I just wanted to let you know that I could be up for a mutually beneficial arrangement.” 

One foot and then the other…

“I heard what you told the twins. Of course it is hardly surprising you would prefer me, who wouldn’t? Besides Ratchet, what could anyone _really_ see in unrefined bots like them? Sure they don’t look too bad, nowhere near as good as me though, that’s a given, and they probably do not disappoint in the berth but everyone knows they’ve nothing to offer a mech. They are a pair of maniacs and quite frankly, do you even know where they’ve been, _who_ they’ve been with?”

That was it! Not even in his fragile state could Ratchet hold back the rage swelling through him and he snapped. Using his larger, bulkier form the CMO slammed Tracks into the wall, his red servo gripping the edge of meticulously polished plating and leaning his face in closely, Ratchet seethed at the other Autobot. “ _Shut. The. Frag. Up!_ ”

Indignation contorted across red face plates before mirth took over, a red mouth smirking at the temper flare. “My, my, someone _is_ eager to get their servos on my plating, and in such a public place too.” Tracks mocked. Oh how he prayed that the twins would happen to stumble out of their quarters right now, he would pay anything to see the look on Sunstreaker’s face to find the medic pressed against his lithe frame. 

Ratchet snarled at Tracks in a wild manner, his denta bared in a wordless threat before he released his hold on the mech’s plating. “Watch your mouth when speaking to an officer.” Taking a step back as he tried to quell the urge to do something he shouldn't, like wiping the smarmy look off that face, but instead the medic spat, “And just so we’re totally clear, _you_ would be the last bot here I’d frag!” 

Tracks was completely unfazed with Ratchet’s reaction, in fact, he was feeling a little revved up right now. With his smirk plastered over his face,the blue and white mech leered at the CMO. “Why Ratchet, that’s _not_ what you said last night is it! Now I know you’re a little worse for wear right now…” In truth, apart from a few lewd suggestions after a few too many highgrades, Tracks had never bothered attempting anything with the medic, but now he found the irate mech more than a little appealing, especially now there was an added bonus; he had a way of getting one up on Sunstreaker and he was going to have fun with this one. 

The Autobot warrior continued his monologue regardless of the fact Ratchet had stormed ahead in angry silence. “…and feeling a little fragile so maybe we will chat later instead, when you've had chance to recover and think about my offer.”

Ratchet was sure Tracks was still droning on as he walked away but by now he had tuned out, one pain in his helm was more than enough to deal with, and making his way to the medical wing the medic wished he could erase the entire last cycle, but he had a tank churning feeling that this was just the start of things to come.

**~|~**

Sunstreaker’s systems abruptly came online, his frame tensing as sensors became alert. Something had disturbed him.

Feeling Sideswipe move beside him, turning his frame so that they faced one another and curling further into his hold, Sunstreaker relaxed, it was probably Sideswipe’s movements which had brought him out of recharge. Tightening his hold on his twin Sunstreaker unshuttered his optics. _‘Strange.’_ He mused. _‘Thought I turned that off last night.’_ Actually, he was _sure_ he had turned the light off.

Fine tuning his audials, listening for any sounds that may indicate they had unexpected company Sunstreaker glanced as far as he could see from his current position. That was when he realised they were in what they referred to as Sideswipe’s berth _,_ they never used Sideswipe’s berth. Raising his helm while trying to not disturb his recharging twin, Sunstreaker glanced over at his berth, seeing the disturbed covers and realisation dawned. “Ratchet.” He vocalised. 

Next to him Sideswipe’s systems powered up, the crimson mech venting and stretching his frame while remaining wrapped in Sunstreaker’s arms. “Sunny, you okay?” He mumbled, tucking his face into Sunstreaker’s neck.

“Ratchet’s gone.” The younger twin replied gruffly. He couldn't help the stab of annoyance which pulsed through him; the medic had slunk out, crept away like a lover who had woken to regret.

Confusion clouded Sideswipe’s mind at both Sunstreaker’s words and the small pulse through the bond, before he remembered. “Oh! Where?”

“How the pit should I know.” Sunstreaker snapped. “I’ve just powered up myself.”

Sideswipe pouted into Sunstreaker’s throat before he nuzzled at a tube there, his attempt to placate. Smiling as a very soft moan slipped past Sunstreaker's lips, Sideswipe trailed finger tips down his twin's back in an effort to draw the moan out.

Reaching back Sunstreaker grabbed the teasing servo. “Not now Swipe, we need to make sure Ratchet’s okay.”

Huffing, Sideswipe uncurled himself from Sunstreaker's frame. “He’s probably gone back to the med bay.” He replied flatly as he sat himself up and moved to the edge of the berth.

The older twin’s movements were slow. He was more than likely hungover but Sunstreaker could also see and feel Sideswipe’s dejection. Sitting up alongside him, he grabbed a Sideswipe's hand and rubbed his thumb over the knuckles. “Swipe?”

Frowning at their clasped hands Sideswipe vented again. “Ratchet doesn’t want us and now you don’t want me.” His voice was quiet and he hated that he felt so needy. Primus, between them they had slain three Drones a cycle ago and now he was sounding like a whimpering animal.

Sunstreaker’s optics dimmed at Sideswipe’s excessive neediness, not that he could really blame him but this was just not like him. Yes, they relied heavily on each other for emotional support but Sideswipe, as juvenile as he could be, was projecting almost youngling like. “I only said not now. Primus Swipe, that doesn’t mean anything.” Softening his tone, Sunstreaker leaned his helm against Sideswipe’s, flooding the bond with love. “This isn’t you.” He gently added. Sideswipe leaned into Sunstreaker as his twin murmured. “I’m not going anywhere but we need to go check on Ratchet.”

Sideswipe nodded and the two sat in silence for a few moments, servos still locked together until the peace was shattered when Sideswipe pulled a face, intoning. “What’s that smell?”

“You!” Sunstreaker replied.

Straightening up Sideswipe lifted an arm towards his face, drawing in a deep vent. “Nope, not me.”

“Not your frame, check the contents of the waste bin.”

Peering over at the waste bin which was normally in their living area, Sideswipe caught a glimpse of unprocessed energon. “Eww!”

“Really!?” Sunstreaker laughed deeply as he stood up. “You slay mechs for a living and you _eww_ over a bit of thrown up energon. C’mon glitch, let’s get some minerals and fresh energon inside you, then we’ll go to the med bay.”

Gingerly getting to his pedes Sideswipe looked over at Sunstreaker, a small frown on his brow. “You seem to be calling me glitch a lot lately.”

Sunstreaker cocked an optic ridge as he walked past his brother. “And you’re cleaning the waste bin when we get back, glitch.” Walking out of the door the golden twin allowed himself a smirk of mirth as Sideswipe sulked behind him.

**~|~**

Ratchet sat in the dark of his office sipping mineral enriched energon while unwelcome thoughts flitted through his processor. He always knew that one cycle his past would catch up with him and that no matter how much he repented for what he had done, or how hard he worked to try and save every spark that came his way, he would never be free of the horror which had occurred on his home planet because of his work; and now it looked as though that time had come.

For so long some of his fellow commanders had kept his secret and not even their head of security, Red Alert knew. Primus, if Red Alert knew of his past the mech would fall into one perpetual glitch. But it was only a matter of time before the rest of the crew would find out, would discover that they had been lied to; learn that whilst they fought for their lives against their Decepticon foe, they had one living in their very midst.

“Credit for them?” A concerned voice drifted through the dark office. 

Ratchet remained aloof, not looking up at the mech who had disturbed him. “Jack.” His tone was flat, unemotional.

“How you feeling?” The engineer remained in the doorway, not sure of Ratchet’s mood after the previous evening.

“Rough.” Ratchet thought if he kept his dialogue short, clipped, maybe his friend would get the hint that he didn't want company.

Ignoring the hint Wheeljack’s helm fins lit the area around him as he lent against the door frame, watching Ratchet’s frame language, trying to gauge him. The medic just sat there, arms resting on the armrests of his chair and he could just see the gentle tensing and un-tensing of red servos as Ratchet gripped the ends of the armrests. His mouth was set in in firm line and staring ahead, his expression was completely closed to whatever he was thinking. For the first time since he had known his friend, Wheeljack was uncertain how to help him, or even if he could help him, but that didn't stop him trying. “Want to talk?”

Finally shifting in his seat, Ratchet activated the office lights and switched his computer out of standby, before replying dully. “Not really, Jack." 

The medic wondered why none of his fellow Autobots could take a hint. First there were the twins with their persistent pursuit of him, then Tracks as he left the twins’ quarters and now Wheeljack. Ratchet loved his old friend dearly, would do anything for him, but his patience was wearing thin. He just wanted to be left alone. 

Regardless of Ratchet’s response Wheeljack carried on, however unlike the egotistical Tracks, the engineer's ignorance of his friend’s wishes was out of concern. “Ironhide went hunting down the twins last night, know what that’s about?”

Dull, lifeless optics finally shifted to the CEO. “Not a clue.” This bit of information was news to Ratchet. He was unaware of anything that may have happened after the incident with Sunstreaker on the berth, his optics flickered as an image snapped into his processor, his disgust at himself for his behaviour rising inside him like unprocessed energon forcing itself back up his intake.

Wheeljack decided that he needed another approach, the direct one. “Ratchet, did you spend the night with the twins?" 

The already tense air became heavy between them as Ratchet turned back to his computer. The glyphs on his screen blurred and swam, his optics becoming unfocused while debating with himself how to answer, if he would answer the question at all. What he had or hadn't done with the twins was frankly no one else’s business.

“Ratchet?”

“Clearly you already know the answer Jack so why bother asking?” The medic was close to snapping again but refocusing himself, his averted optics narrowed and despite his growing ire he found himself adding, “But not in the way you think.”

Stepping inside the office Wheeljack closed the door as Hoist arrived to prep for the day's appointments. “In what way did you spend the night with them?” He questioned, not sure what Ratchet was telling him.

Ratchet vented and gave up the idea of trying to work. Leaning his elbows on his desk the CMO rubbed a hand over his face. “What do you want Jack? A blow by blow account about how the twins found me a huddled, overcharged mess outside their quarters. Or how they were nothing but _nice_ to me, even after what I did…said.” The medic still refused to look at his friend, his shame weighing heavily on him. 

“So you felt you… _owed_ them?” Wheeljack winced at his words. He didn't believe for one moment that the twins would take advantage of Ratchet but he had to ask. He needed to know what had happened, not what they had been led to believe had happened.

Rage welled inside Ratchet, most of it stemming from his own guilt, and finally looking up at his friend Ratchet's optics flashed dangerously at the engineer. “How dare you Jack!” He seethed as he projected his guilt on Wheeljack. “They never laid a finger on me. I recharged in one berth, the twins in the other.”

Wheeljack, not expecting the backlash to be so vehement, raised his hands in retreat. “Okay, sorry. I had to ask. So there was no funny busi…”

“No, there wasn’t!” The medic’s anger was still bubbling away but he reigned it in. 

None of this was Wheeljack’s fault. He knew the engineer was just looking out for him but Ratchet couldn't pull himself out of the state he had worked himself into. Who he had become, the mech his comrades knew him to be was gruff and cantankerous, and enjoyed throwing his wrench far more than he should do. But he cared, too much, and he always put others before himself. But. Ow this persona hiding his terrible secret was cracking under the pressure he felt bearing down on him, and it was bringing the worst out in him.

“Now if there’s nothing else you need I’ve a busy day with check-ups.” Despite simmering down Ratchet glared at his old friend for a moment. 

The engineer stood his ground, once again ignoring the medic’s hint to leave. “Did you talk to them, about what you said?”

Ratchet was out of his seat and moving to the door. Maybe if he left his office he would finally get a little peace. “No Jack.” He vented. “Can’t say I was in any fit state to _talk_.  Besides, what I said still stands.”

Shaking his helm Wheeljack walked into the med bay as Ratchet indicated for him to precede him. “You forget I know you Ratchet and I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your choice.” The CMO’s vocaliser was flat, as though he really didn't care what his friend thought. He just wanted the conversation to end.

Wheeljack gave Ratchet a small sad look which went unseen. “I hope you realise they won’t chase you forever.” 

The medic’s spark skipped a beat at that comment but he continued into the med bay, as if Wheeljack hadn't said a word. 

**~|~**

The rec room was full of mechs feeling rather sorry for themselves, all a little green around the vents and needing to recover in time to take up their posts for the day. Taking a small vial from his subspace Sunstreaker added the minerals he had brought from their quarters to Sideswipe’s energon.

“Drink!” He instructed his twin. 

Sideswipe gave him a sorry look. He really had gone to town on the highgrade this time. Taking a few sips Sideswipe’s dim optics roved around the room while he gave the concoction time to settle in his tank. Narrowing his optics he mumbled. “What we gonna do about Tracks?”

The very mech gave a loud arrogant laugh from the corner he shared with Bluestreak and Hound, the sniper looking unusually annoyed at what Sideswipe guessed, he had hoped was going to be morning energon for two, whilst Hound nodded at the warrior politely. If Sideswipe wasn’t feeling so rotten he would have helped to persuade Tracks to move on, letting Bluestreak get the alone time with the green tracker that he desired, but until his tanks stopped churning Sideswipe would be lucky to make it across the room.

Sunstreaker gave a sneer that was meant for Track's but only seen by his brother. “We’ll deal with him later. Energon first then Ratchet.” Sunstreaker encourage Sideswipe to drink more of his energon. “Besides, if he thinks he’s gotten away with spreading his dirty lies about us then he won’t expect us when we come knocking on his door.”

The crimson twin just about managed a smirk.

As the two continued to sip quietly at their table Jazz bounced in, literally. “Hey my mechs.” He sang.  “How’s you all feeling this morning?” The visored mech was met with a chorus of groans as he grabbed his energon and headed for the twins. 

“How d’you always manage to avoid the hangover?” Sideswipe groaned. “I’m sure you drank more than me.”

Jazz chuckled and Sideswipe saw one edge of his visor dim as the saboteur winked behind it. “Part of being a special ops mech, I’ve many special powers.”

“You’ll have to teach me one day.” Sideswipe mumbled as he sipped a bit more of his cube.

“Anyway.” Jazz, leered at them. “Spill mechs! Tell the Jazzmeister what happened last night?” Did old Hide tear you a new one for corrupting our medic?” A cheeky grin spread across his face. The Saboteur spent more than enough of his time playing cards close to his chest so indulging in a bit of juicy gossip was one of his favourite past times. “Not that Ratch needs corrupting, he could prob’ly teach you a thing or two.” His mouth twitched in amusement.

Frowning, Sideswipe ignored Jazz’s comment as he quietly answered. “Nothing happened.” His weary state covered his feelings of dejection well. 

The officer’s smile never wavered. “Playing coy are we mechs. Well you know I’ll prise the details outta you sooner or later.”

“Ratchet already made his feeling's about us clear, you heard him.” Sideswipe shrugged away his despondency as he took another sip of energon.

Sunstreaker was beginning to get more than a little narked at these accusations, first Ironhide and now Jazz; and these were mechs they got along with. Primus forbid if they knew that Wheeljack was currently implying the same thing to Ratchet. “Slaggit Jazz, on top of everything else does everyone think we’re a pair of interface crazed animals.”

Jazz smirked.

The younger twin glared coldly at Jazz. “Have you ever known us to be involved with anyone else, here or back at Iacon?”

It was true. Despite what the rest of the crew thought about the twins, there was no evidence that they had ever hooked up with anyone else and the only mech they had ever been seen to pursue, unsuccessfully, was Ratchet.

“So old Hatchet didn’t spend the night with you then?” The officer questioned. Hidden optics narrowed as he studied the front liner, looking for any hint of a lie.

Having had his fill of the questions Sunstreaker rose from his seat. “You might be one of my few friends Jazz but you’re really beginning to frag me off. C’mon Swipe, we’ve somewhere to be.”

Jazz gave a small chuckle. “Chill Sunny. Anyone would think you’ve something to hide.”

Officer or not, Sunstreaker threw a dirty look at the smaller mech before heading out of the rec room. _~Hurry up!~_ he snapped through the bond.

Quickly knocking back the rest of his energon Sideswipe stood up, the additional minerals finally started doing their job as his tank settled down. “Yes, he did spend the night in our quarters and no, we didn’t touch him.”

Sideswipe’s tone told the saboteur he was telling the truth and that all was not well. Watching the crimson mech as he rounded the corner out of the door, Jazz leant back in his chair, fingers clasped together behind his helm. Shuffling through his memories of the last cycle he focused on Ratchet and something clearly wasn't right from the moment they all congregated around Teletraan1 and learned of the Decepticon's latest target. Jazz’s optics dimmed behind his visor. DI’d the CMO know something that he hadn't shared with the rest of command?

Unclasping his servos he sat forward again, resting his forearms on the table. He knew seeing the Drones would evoke some painful memories for the medic but there was something else. Maybe he would swing by and have a chat with Ratchet. The command team had been so focused on the Drones and possible space bridge that they had forgotten about the medical facility raid itself and Jazz’s tank told him that whatever Megatron had been after, was what had gotten the CMO into this sombre mood. 

After the raid the medic had shut himself off for the remainder of the day until Wheeljack dragged him to the party, and with the exception of Optimus stopping by to check on him, the rest of the command crew had left him be, but now it was time to have a serious talk.

However, neither the twins nor Jazz would make it to the med bay quite yet as the warning claxon went off.

//ALL AUTOBOTS ARE TO ASSEMBLE IN THE CONTROL ROOM, I REPEAT ALL AUTOBOTS TO THE CONTROL ROOM// Came Prowl’s request over the Ark’s comm. system.

Several hungover groans echoed through the rec room as bots finished their energon and dragged their sorry afts to the control room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Autobots go looking for a space bridge but get more than they bargained for.

Following the unexpected presence of the Drones at their last Decepticon encounter, the Autobot leader was not taking any chances, leaving only a skeleton crew back at the Ark; even calling the Protectobots in from their city patrol to strengthen their numbers out in the field.

With Hot Spot and his crew en route, the rest of the team arrived at the coordinates given by Teletraan1. It was less than a day after sending the satellite scanner out and after the first few segmented areas had drawn a blank, Teletraan’s eye in the sky probe had finally picked up an out of place energy surge. Now laying below them was the canyon the signal came from. The images relayed back to the Ark showed nothing more than the empty landscape that they currently surveyed, and even from their elevated position there was no sign of a space bridge or any Decepticon activity, despite several energy signatures appearing on their scanners. 

With a few mechs taking sniper positions at the canyon edge, and Blaster instructed to be ready to work at keeping Soundwave away from their frequencies, the rest of the crew picked a path into the chasm, moving forward as a collective group. Suddenly the Autobots were halted in their tracks when Megatron exited a hidden fissure in the rocky wall up ahead and one by one, Soundwave along with Starscream’s trine joined the Decepticon leader, taking up positions either side of him.

Prowl immediately sent comm messages to the snipers above them, warning them to be on their guard for airborne Decepticons whilst Optimus squared off with the Decepticon leader.

“Welcome Prime. I had hoped that you and your merry band of followers would turn up soon.” A dark smirk was firmly plastered on Megatron’s face, his ruby optics glinting dangerously in the sunlight. “And you've arrived just in time to see a rather great spectacle.”

The Prime quietly regarded his nemesis for a moment. “Is that so, Megatron? Now what could possibly be so spectacular that you would want my presence?” Optimus had heard Megatron claim many things before and to date, all so called _spectacles_ had been short lived.

“Oh I have surpassed myself this time, Prime, and once you see what I have achieved, you will be left with a choice. The choice to futilely run or,” The Decepticon’s self-importance was palpable, he really was pleased with himself. “Drop your weapons and bow down to me.”

Ironhide snorted from the Prime’s side. “We’ll never drop our weapons to you, Megatron.”

Narrowing his optics on the Autobot Prime, the warlord mused. “Letting your grunts speak for you I see, Optimus.” 

“Who you calling a grunt you slagger!?” The weapons specialist growled. His cannon more than ready to do his bidding.

Not taking his optics off of his adversary, Optimus commanded his officer. “Back down, Ironhide!” Then addressing Megatron again, he questioned. “Again I ask you Megatron, what is so spectacular that you would _want_ my presence?”

“Oh you have no idea Prime.” Megatron’s menacing laughter floated on the small breeze, even more sinister than usual and putting the Autobot leader on edge.

Rapidly, the rest of the Decepticon army vacated the opening in the canyon wall right before a bright flash of light illuminated the dark crevice as an explosion of energy washed out and over the two warring factions. In reaction, Autobots instinctively moved their weapons, some keeping them trained on their enemy others now targeted on the spot the energy surge profusely bled from.

With helm fins flashing a myriad of colours Wheeljack turned to Optimus. “It’s a slagging space bridge!” He intoned. “We’ve found the space bridge.”

Unease welled through the group of Autobots, a few shuffling their feet as nervousness rippled through the crowd. Any excitement they had previously about the possibility of there being a space bridge, and the possibility of a way back home, disappeared as uncertainty and reality kicked in.

“Are you quite sure, Wheeljack?” Optimus asked his CEO; he already knew the answer but he had to be sure. “Could it be something else?”

“We may not’ve seen a space bridge for a few millennia Prime, but I’m telling you, there’s a space bridge in there.” The engineer pulled one of his own scanners from his subspace and tapped a few glyphs on the screen before handing it to the Prime, the evidence clear for his leader to see.

Returning the scanner to his engineer, the Prime called his two seconds to his side. “Prowl, Jazz, thoughts?”

“If Jack says it’s a space bridge , I believe him.” Jazz replied while his hidden optics continuously scanned the Decepticon crowd, looking for any hint of what was about to transpire.

“I believe he means thoughts on what could be about to occur, Jazz.” Prowl stated blandly before he turned to Optimus. “I predict Drones.”

Low murmurs now floated around the group of Autobots whilst the twins, positioned just behind their Prime, shared a glance. Optimus released a deep vent of air. “Unfortunately that is what I believe too.”

Prowl looked distant, quickly running facts and scenarios through his processor, each calculation providing the same result without a secure plan in place; a high death rate. “Assuming that on this occasion there will be more than the three Drones we encountered the last cycle, the only logical course of action is to retreat so that we can appropriately plot our next move.”

Slowly nodding his helm Optimus looked to the rest of his command team. “Everyone agreed?” He asked, although technically, it was not really a question.

“I say we blast ‘em into the next solar system.” Ironhide grumbled. He hated the idea of retreating, even if it was the best course of action.

Turning to the weapons specialist with a stern look, Optimus countered. “If what we predict is true Ironhide, we need to have a clear tactical plan. I will not put my mechs in danger because we went in gun ho.”

Ironhide couldn't disagree with his commander but that didn't mean he had to like it. There was only one language the Decepticons understood and the burly mech was more than ready and willing.

Megatron watched with amusement as the Autobot command team discussed their options, oh how he looked forward to the looks on their faces when he showed off exactly what he had in store for them. Before the Prime had chance to instruct his crew to fall back, for dropping their weapons to Megatron simply was not an option, there was a second flash of bright light, delaying the order to retreat. Opening comm. lines Optimus quickly gave new instructions and the Autobots readied themselves for whatever was about to come out of that cave, the front line twins instinctively moving forward to stand between their Prime and his antagonist, others of their team falling behind them to flank the command team.

In response the elite seeker trine trained their own weapons, Thundercracker and Skywarp on the twins, Starscream on Optimus Prime whilts Soundwave busied himself battling with Blaster for control of the Autobot comm. lines.

“You see my old _friend,_ ” Megatron started, not batting an optic at the change in the position of the Autobot soldiers. Sunstreaker growled at the endearment, raising his weapon higher, focusing his line of sight between the large mech’s optics. “While you've been busy pandering to the humans, busy cleaning up our mess and performing _civic duties,_ we have been concentrating on _my_ plans.” Megatron caught the swivel of Starscream’s helm from the corner of his optic, feeling the claret optics burn into him. “ _Our_ plans, the goals of the _Decepticons_. You see, waking up on Earth was a blessing in disguise, Prime. Of course at first we scrabbled to get off this dirt ball but once we’d had the chance to see the planet for what it was, we discovered it was our ticket to total domination. While you've been weak…” 

Several snorts of derision emanated from the Autobot camp and Starscream vocalised his own disdain for his commander’s long winded speech. “Get on with it Megatron, they’ll be here in a klik.”

Ignoring Starscream’s insubordination, he could deal with him later, Megatron continued. “We’ve been growing stronger and you haven’t had a clue.”

Before Megatron had finished his little speech the sound of marching came from the depths of the hidden cave. While confusion flickered through the Autobots and smirks across the faces of several Decepticons, a small army of black and purple frames teamed out of the cave, marching in unison, faces hidden by their masks. One by one each marching soldier fell into place behind Megatron and his soldiers, turning to face the opposing side.

A sickening grin spread wide on Megatron’s face as he relished in the shock that most of the Autobots failed to hide.

Eventually the stream of new Decepticons ended. “I count twenty four.” Prowl informed the Prime.

There was no denying the panic rolling through the energy fields of the Autobots, there was no way they could stand up to twenty four Drones _and_ what seemed to be the entire Earth based Decepticon army. However no one was more panicked than the Autobot medic, something that was not missed by members of both factions.

“Meet the new additions to my army. Of course it is a shame that a few of their comrades are no longer here to join them.” Megatron looked pointedly at the twins as he stepped forward.

In response a few more Autobot weapons moved to focus on the large grey mech, the others split between the Decepticons and the Drones. With their leader under threat the Drones would undoubtedly responded in kind.

Megatron’s face, and grin, eventually shifted to the Autobot CMO.  “Now Ratchet, are you not going to welcome them?” 

More confusion flickered through many pairs of blue optics and Sideswipe quickly glanced over his shoulder at the medic. That look from the day before, the one which implied that Ratchet wanted to run and purge all at the same time was present again. _~It’s like the medical facility all over again.~_ Sideswipe told his twin, his optics moving back to his target. _~I think it’s something to do with the Drones.~_  

It was Sunstreaker’s turn to glance at the medic. _~Maybe they crushed his home city.~_ Then as an afterthought, he asked. _~Do we even know where he’s from?~_

 _~Never heard him talk of home.~_ Sideswipe replied. _~Only know he spent most of the war either at Iacon or at outposts. If his city did fall at their hands I doubt he was there.~_

Sunstreaker thought about it for a moment. _~Well even if that’s not it he saw plenty of other cities destroyed, treated thousands of soldiers and neutrals in the aftermath. Maybe seein'gthem again stirs painful memories for him.~_

Whilst the twins speculated, Jazz had opened a comm. to Optimus, Prowl, Ironhide and Wheeljack. //Mechs, this ain’t lookin' good for Ratchet.// Despite the danger to them all, it was Ratchet who was currently at the forefront of the saboteur’s processor. 

//Seconded. We need to get Ratchet out of here, now!// Prowl stated, his processor on the same level of thinking as Jazz’s. Their own position was pretty dire but the last thing they needed was a bad reaction from the troops if a certain secret regarding Ratchet and the Drones was to be made public.

Optimus was in agreement with his seconds. //Agreed. Ratchet’s safety is paramount and if the secret we have kept for eons has to come out, it would be preferable that it were on our terms and back at the safety of the Ark. Wheeljack, you are to return back to the Ark with Ratchet immediately. I will send Inferno and Trailbreaker with you for protection.//

Obeying his commander Wheeljack moved towards Ratchet’s position. //Sure thing Prime. What’ll you tell the others?// The question remained unanswered as Optimus turned his attention back on his nemesis when he heard him address Ratchet again.

“No, nothing to say Ratchet?” Megatron continued. “How you hurt their feeling. Well, you would do if we hadn't reprogrammed them _not_ to feel.”

Ratchet took a step backwards, his optics wide with fear. He felt as though the valley was closing in on him and despite the fact that he was surrounded by both fellow Autobots and opposing Decepticons, it was as though none of them existed other than the Decepticon leader he once served.

Never taking his optics or weapon from Megatron, Sideswipe changed his position, remaining on the front line but moving closer to Ratchet. He didn't know what was going on but the fact that the Decepticon leader had spoken to the Autobot CMO directly didn't sit well with the front liner. Sure, the medic fought as ferociously as any of the warriors when called on, but his duty was to take care of the injured, repairing bots in order to go back up against the warlord, but the medic was of little threat to the Decepticons.

Or so Sideswipe thought. 

A deep, mocking laugh bellowed from Megatron. “You didn’t _really_ think I didn’t know who you were all this time… _Torque_?” A collective gasp echoed through the Autobot group, optics momentarily shifting to the medic before focusing back on their targets.

“Have you finally blown your processor Megatron.” Sunstreaker growled, his plating puffing out in aggravation.

The Decepticon shifted his attention to the former gladiator. “Oh Sunstreaker, if you only knew the secrets your precious Prime harbours.”

A finger twitched on his trigger as Sunstreaker’s optics narrowed, willing the Decepticon to give him a reason to open fire.

Optimus stepped towards his front liners while addressing several of his mechs via their comms. with their orders. //Ratchet, you are to go with Wheeljack, now! Inferno, Trailbreaker, you are to both accompany them back to the Ark. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, be prepared!//

A silent understanding was nodded grimly and whilst the twins held their positions their battle armour quickly slid into place, their shadows on the ground growing in stature as their frames changed shape, becoming more foreboding as their shoulders broadened and large curved barbs, both ornamental and intimidating, extending outwards and upwards. Slender but powerful limbs became thicker set, yet none of their dexterity was compromised.

Their battle masks slipped into place, completing their physical transformation, leaving them faceless and cold while their processors easily slid into a deep, dark place that other Autobots feared to tread.

Megatron laughed mockingly at them. “Do you honestly think you two can take on all these," The mammoth grey mech swept his arm across the view of the waiting Drones before returning to sneer at the two. _"Alone_?” He didn’t wait for a response. "This isn’t Kaon, you are not the pride of the Pits now. In fact, you are nothing but a pair of egotistical maniacs who are lower than the foe they fight because a Decepticon would never hide who he is.” His sneering tone became mocking again. “I stand corrected, there are exceptions to the rule.”

Megatron’s gaze fell to Ratchet again.

The twins, optics now cold chinks of light, stared icily at the Decepticon leader but they made no retort; their hard, taciturn demeanour already in place, battle systems ready and waiting and at this point in time, nothing else existed except them, their foe and the wait.

Meanwhile, Inferno and Trailbreaker joined Wheeljack at Ratchet’s side, the engineer placing a servo on his friend’s arm. “Come Ratchet, let’s go.”

Ratchet shook his friend off him, shaking his helm. He wanted nothing more than to run as far away as possible and pretend that this wasn't happening. He couldn't face the mechs he called friends, family, discovering his past but as this was clearly going to happen whether he was here or not, what was the point in running?

For a few moments Megatron held Ratchet’s stare, daring him to react before snorting his contempt for the medic’s lack of fight, turning his attention back to the Autobot Prime. “So Optimus, are you going to tell them? No?”

Unusually angry blue optics glared at the leader of the opposition. “Megatron, what do you wish to accomplish from this?"

What about…” The Decepticon ignored the Prime as he made a show of scanning the group of Autobots until his optics landed on the tactician. “You Prowl? The ever cool and calculated Prowl. Are you going to tell those in your command about Ratchet’s _little_ secret? No, not you either? You disappoint me. Hmm, how about you Jazz?” Megatron’s optics narrowed as they slid to the mech stood next to Prowl. “Friend to all Autobots but I wonder what your _friends_ would think of the lies you have told them? Of course being a spy, one has to wonder if anything you ever say is the truth, or even some twisted version of it."

The two Autobot commanders remained silent, motionless, neither giving the Decepticon leader the satisfaction of riling them into a response while unrest began to ripple through the ranks, just as Megatron had banked on.

Oh yes, the Autobots were most tolerant, overly so in Megatron’s opinion but he had a feeling that this secret would be one step too far for them. After all, how would any of them feel finding out that the one mech their trusted their very lives with had once served their Decepticon foe. Of course, it was irrelevant to the warlord that Ratchet never physically fought on their behalf, nor had he joined them as a soldier, instead working behind the scenes and unwittingly, to begin with, helping Megatron and Shockwave in their twisted master plan. It only mattered that the Autobots were ruffled by the revelation and that he caused a breakdown within the faction, and if this action should drive the medic in question back into his fold, well who was he to turn away an asset?

The twins continued to hold their steely gazes on Megatron whilst Ratchet’s world slowly came crashing down around him. He wanted to stand up for himself, come back at the twisted psychopath with one of his usual cutting retorts, but his processor had frozen on him. The thoughts were there, the barbed comments, but he had no way of connecting his mind to his vocaliser. He also found that he was rooted to the spot, as though the relays that would send lines of coding between his processor and frame had been broken, shut down on him. His fear mixed with rage but he simply stood there, dumbfounded and paralysed, his past _crimes_ flashing through his mind.

Meanwhile, Megatron was now focused on Ironhide. “Well, well Ironhide. You usually have something to say for yourself, but not now I see.”

The weapons master snarled, an unrefined retort on the tip of his glossa but he was cut off before his thoughts could be vocalised.

“ _Enough!_ ” Optimus snapped, his cool demeanour slipping with the wellbeing of his medic and friend under threat. “Why exactly did you want us here Megatron. I see no point in our surrender to you now as you have played your cards, revealed what we have kept hidden.”

These words jolted Sideswipe and Sunstreaker out of their trance and forgetting their position, they glanced at one another.

 _~What's he saying Swipe?~_ Sunstreaker understood what the Decepticon had implied when he had called Ratchet _Torque_. It was not uncommon for a someone to change their designation, they lived long lives and with the war personalities changed, leading mechs to reinvent themselves. But Optimus, the Prime they served without question was confirming that a secret had been kept, a secret about Ratchet.

The same confusion swept through from Sideswipe. _~I think…I think he’s saying Ratchet was a Decepticon.~_

 _~That’s Impossible, isn’t it?~_ Sunstreaker asked, not sure he wanted to really know the answer. Bots defected all the time, both ways, but not Ratchet, not their medic, there was no way he could ever have been a Decepticon!

A glint flashed through Megatron’s optics and he vented a dramatic sigh. “Oh but I haven’t even gotten to the good part of the story Prime. Besides, you have just said more to your mechs in that one sentence than all my words. The question is, how far will you go to protect one of your own? Of course, he was one of mine so technically, you know, blah, blah, blah. All you have to do is lay your weapons on the ground” The smirk was back. Not even their surrender could really stop the secret from being exposed now, too much had been said. It seems today he had the upper hand, whichever way it went.

In the silence which ensued, the Decepticon leader could almost feel Optimus warring with his thoughts.

“Don’t tell me your considering anything he wants, Prime?” Ironhide growled when his commander fell silent, his glare never leaving the mocking face plates of the maniac standing across from them.

“Found your vocaliser again I see, Ironhide.” Megatron seemed to be enjoying himself; relishing in the discomfort of the Autobots and the disconcert rippling through them, as well as the small level of conflict between the command team.

The bulky red and grey officer bared his denta, snarling again at the Decepticon. “And I’ll rip yours out if I hear you asking us to drop our weapons again!”

The malevolent smirk slipped at being addressed in such a manner, a small scowl forming on Megatron’s face for a moment before the glint return to his optics. “Optimus, you really should learn to keep your mechs in line. Now what’ll it be? Surrender or the revelation of your dirty little secret? I’ve decided to take the option to retreat off the table, well, just because.” Grey shoulders gave a nonchalant shrug.

Sideswipe opened a private comm with the Prime. //Sunstreaker and I have clear shots, just say the word.// His words were cold and clipped as he slipped deeper into that side of the twins’ persona that the other Autobots feared.

//Stand down Sideswipe, but remain on alert.// The Prime ordered.

//Prime, we could end this now!// His frustration at his leader's reticence bubbled away but Sideswipe remained aloof and controlled, ready to strike in an instant if needs be.

Suddenly static replaced the Autobot Commander’s response, a result of Soundwave having overcome Blaster’s efforts to keep their comm. lines free from Decepticon interference.

“Negative Sideswipe.” Prime ordered verbally, garnering yet another smirk from Megatron.

The Decepticon commander had a good idea what it was that the Prime was disagreeing to. “You’re too soft Prime. Your front liners have the best shot any of your soldiers have had on me in stellar-cycles, and I have a small but deadly army of Drones standing behind me, but _still_ you won’t give the command.”

The Prime’s weapon twitched in his hold whilst Sideswipe cast his icy stare at Optimus, almost willing him to give the command. Then Megatron suddenly focused on the medic again, pulling everyone’s attention with him.

“Okay, I’m bored now. Ratchet…”

“Megatron!” Optimus failed to bite back his rising snarl. It seemed that this day was to be full of surprises as a small side of Optimus that his soldiers had never seen before, made itself known. “You clearly have the capacity to create your Drones again so what do you hope to achieve by doing this?.”

Megatron kept his optics locked on the white and red mech. “You had your chance Prime. As I was about to say Ratchet, or would you prefer to be called _Torque_. It’s a much less _common_ designation than Ratchet, don’t you think?”

The silence amongst the Autobots became heavier as that designation was used for a second time. A designation they hadn't heard before and seemed to elicit a mixed reaction from the Autobot medic.

“You see Autobots, silly, trusting Autobots, your medic here is not who you think he is.” Ratchet tried shrinking in on himself. Maybe leaving would have been the better idea instead of being the focus of accusing optics as his comrades stared at him in confusion. “Did any of you know Ratchet _before_ he became an Autobot?" Megatron raised a hand towards Optimus and his command team. "You already know the answer to this so it won't be fair for you to play this game.”

Autobots were shuffling nervously. They had no idea what game was being played here and it unsettled them.

“Is there no depth you won’t stoop to, Megatron?” Wheeljack challenged the warlord, his helm fins flickering between red and black with his anger and fear for his oldest friend.

Megatron turned his sickly grin on the engineer. “Ah, Wheeljack. Maybe you would like the honour of regaling your comrades with Ratchet’s story, after all your friendship precedes the war and you know him better than anyone." With helm fins continuing to flash darkly, and an unusual look of murderous intent in his narrowed optics, Wheeljack stepped closer to the medic. He would protect his friend with everything he had.

At the same time the twins were becoming impatient. Their battle protocols had been active for several minutes now and without a clear plan of manoeuvres ahead of them, it would not be long before they became difficult, edgy; unpredictable.

“Oh for frag sake Megatron.” Having already batted away confusion over what was transpiring, Sunstreaker snarled as his battle mask retracted, his icy façade momentarily receding. “Spit it out! we are getting bored.”

Resisting the urge to put a hole in the front liner’s chest for daring to speak to him in that manner, Megatron sneered. “Fine, have it your way. You Autobots really are no fun. You see mechs, this formidable army standing behind me,” The large mech paused and surveyed the glistening black and purple army, all standing to attention and waiting for their orders. “Well, it is down to the talents of Torque here…”

“His designation’s _Ratchet_.” Sunstreaker growled. He refused to acknowledge what he was hearing.

“Okay, if you insist, the talents of _Ratchet,_ ” Megatron canted his helm and hissed sarcastically. “That they exist at all. You could say he was instrumental in their  _creation_.”

A stunned silence crushed down on the Autobots, some not even sure that they had heard correctly.

“That’s slag!” Sunstreaker barked.

Sideswipe picked up where his twin left off. “We all know they’re Shockwave’s abominations!”

Ignoring the twins Megatron addressed Ratchet again. “Now _Ratchet_ , are you really going to let Shockwave take _all_ the credit when you were the true genius behind dark energon, the very strength of the Decepticon Drones?”

Ratchet’s optics were cold as he watched his former leader, hiding his fear as he avoided the incredulous stares he could feel burning into him from his fellow Autobots. Everything they knew about him was a lie, he was not who they thought him to be. His hands clenched his blaster tight to his frame, he wanted to flee but he was still frozen, rooted to the spot. He alsowanted to defend himself, but what could he say… _No, it’s not true_ …tell another lie.

Sideswipe retracted his own mask as he looked over his spiked shoulder to the subdued medic. He didn't like Ratchet’s frame language, or the stance of the officers around him. There was definitely something amiss. Letting a little of his icy demeanour slip away he hesitantly asked. “Ratchet, he’s talking slag, isn’t he?”

The medic shuttered his optics, his vents heavy while his spark raced. His energy field swirled wildly around him, clashing with Wheeljack’s field and the engineer sent waves of calm. It was all over for him now. Optimus and the others had done everything within their power to protect him, had gone above and beyond for him, but now that the rest of the crew knew who he was there was no way he could stay. He would be shunned; but probably not because he had been a Decepticon, but because of the lies, and being stranded on Earth he had nowhere to go other than back to the faction he had fled from.

“What the frag Swipe!?” Sunstreaker yelled at his brother. “Of course it’s slag! Why would you believe it, believe what _that_ maniac…” Sunstreaker looked to his superiors, their faces telling him what he had trouble believing.

Not wanting to have this conversation publicly Sideswipe reverted back to their bond. _~Sunny, look at Ratchet. I…I don’t think it’s Megatron telling the lies.~_

So many mixed emotions swirled back and forth through the twin bond. Denial, confusion, disappointment, but the need to protect the only one they had ever loved as deeply as they did, despite his apparent dislike of them, wound its way amongst the feelings.

_~Frag you! Of course he’s lying, Ratchet would never…~_

_~LOOK AT HIM SUNNY! He’s almost dying of shame.~_ Sideswipe didn't know who his anger was directed at; Megatron for doing this, Ratchet for lying, Sunstreaker for his denial or himself, for believing the lies, for someone _was_ lying.

 _If_ what the Decepticon leader was telling them was true, Sunstreaker knew in his spark they were only being told some sort of semblance of the truth, because he couldn't believe for one moment that Ratchet would willingly do anything to harm others, not the Ratchet he knew, loved. Forgetting himself, forgetting he was currently stood on the front line, Sunstreaker lowered his weapon and turned to Optimus. “Prime, stop him from spreading these lies. We should attack them.” He growled 

“For what Sunstreaker?” The Prime asked. The anger in his optics softening as he spoke to Sunstreaker. He knew how the twins felt. Optimus was one of the few who believed his and Sideswipe’s intentions towards the medic were true so he understood the emotional turmoil the younger mech would be feeling. “So far they have not made a move on us.”

“But these things he’s saying...”

Optimus remained calm as he cut in. The front liner was still in a battle state and despite how he was currently reacting, Sunstreaker was still capable of switching persona in a nano-second. “Sunstreaker we cannot attack someone because we don’t like what they are saying. Is that not what we have been fighting millennia for? Freedom of lives. Freedom of speech.”

“Frag this!” Sunstreaker's anger bit through both the air and the bond to Sideswipe, his mask snapping shut again while his weapon was thrown into maximum power as he renewed his aim.

The Prime’s words became firm, commanding. “I am ordering you to back down Sunstreaker!”

With cold intent clear in the front liner’s optics, Starscream dilated his optics in response. Was the Autobot really that stupid!? “Skywarp!” He intoned.

Dark mirth settled in the purple and black seeker’s optics as he readied himself, but just as he was about to fire Megatron swung around and knocked the teleporter clean of his feet. Turning his wrath on Starscream the trine leader cowered under the gaze of Magatron's fusion cannon. “Did I command you to order fire Starscream?”

Starscream was knelt on one knee, torso arched back, forced into that position as he tried to avoid the heat bleeding from the massive cannon that was currently targeted at his chest. “N…no, Lord Megatron.”

“Then give me one good reason why I shouldn't incinerate you right now?” Megatron growled. He would not have his second in command taking matters into his own hands, not when he had such a captive audience.

Raising his hands in surrender the seeker stammered. “Be…because you need me, my liege. While Shockwave works on Cybertron, restoring our Drone army, I…I am your only scientist on Earth.”

Glaring down at Starscream for a few moments, Megatron snorted before finally pulling his cannon away. “Get up you snivelling excuse for a mech!”

The seeker complied, keeping his optics firmly on the ground, humiliation burning through him. _‘One of these cycles.’_ He seethed to himself as he straightened his frame, his wings hiking higher on his back.

Twisting his frame, Megatron addressed his faction. “Anyone else care to take matters into their own hands?”

The question was met with an uncomfortable silence, most mechs dropping their optics to the ground in order to avoid optic contact leaving Megatron to continue his tale. “Optimus.” Megatron was now focused back on the Prime. “Do you care to finish my little story, or shall I go on.”

Optimus turned to look at Ratchet. They had protected him for an eternity, given him a new designation. He had changed his frame and whilst the medic became unrecognisable, Prowl had hunted down every archive file on the medic Torque that he could find in the remaining Cybertronian data bases, and changing the records, the tactician created an established history for the medic Ratchet.

Then once the Prime was sure they had covered all tracks, Ratchet was given a place amongst the Autobots, primarily working out of Iacon so that they could keep an optic on him, ensuring he was as safe as he could be in their war. As time passed, and they believed that Ratchet’s history was no longer a threat, the medic accompanied troops to other outposts, tending to the wounded. Along the way he had become Optimus’ most trusted friend but despite the fact Ratchet thrived amongst the Autobots, building a reputation where he was both feared and revered, the Autobot commander knew his friend was still haunted by his past.

The Prime had spent many times trying to talk Ratchet out of his remorse, the larger mech believing the medic had nothing to be repentant for; he had not carried out his medical research with a view to destroy but out of a desire to help. It was the Decepticons whom Ratchet had served who had taken his work and created these _monsters_ , these Drones.

Megatron and Shockwave destroyed what Ratchet had strived for, what he believed in, and now the Decepticons were all set to destroy the mech again. Even if they were to leave right now the seed of doubt had been planted, the secret was out and the Prime's soldiers would want answers.

“Clearly your Prime is lost for words.” The Warlord continued, his smirking optics firmly planted on the blue and red Autobot leader. “Where were we, oh yes, Ratchet’s creations, the Drone, you see Autobots, Ratchet once worked under Shockwave but as I may have mentioned, we didn’t know him as Ratchet." Megatron began pacing as he told his story, Autobot weapons following his path 

Prowl turned to Optimus, his tone low. “We _really_ need to get Ratchet out of here. We all need to get out of here before we lose total control.”

“Tell Wheeljack he needs to move out now, we will follow on.” The Prime vented. He needed the comm lines back up.

Just as the thought passed through his processor Blaster was suddenly talking to him. //Gotcha back online, Prime.//

//Well done Blaster.// Optimus quickly linked up with Ratchet and the others, repeating his earlier commands. //Ratchet you are to return to the Ark immediately! Trailbreaker, Inferno, move out with him and Wheeljack.//

Wheeljack was still at the medic’s side. “Let’s get you outta here.”

Inferno and Trailbreaker moved away from the medic and engineer to the rear of the Autobot crowd and transformed, ready to leave, the movement attracting the pacing Decepticon’s attention. His optics fell on Ratchet again as he let himself be led away by Wheeljack. “Leaving so soon Ratchet?” Megatron mocked. “But the story has only been partly told. 

Unexpectedly Ratchet span around to face Megatron, his processor finally firing into life, his face contorted with anger; anger which tempered the fear inside him. “Why!?” He spat. The medic pushed through the front line of soldiers, coming to stand in front of the larger mech. “What do you hope to achieve? _What_ do you want with me?” It was clear that they were able to recreate the army without his help, and if Megatron had always known Ratchet’s identity all along, why now? Why at all?

Ratchet’s sudden movement towards Megatron brought Thundercracker forward, the seeker raising an arm to halt any further advance from the Autobot. The blue and white mech had no intention of doing anything other than stopping the medic from closing the space between him and Megatron but unfortunately, Sunstreaker’s urge to protect Ratchet mixed with his heightened battle protocols, sent the golden front liner rushing forward. He was still vaguely mindful of the Prime’s previous command to not open fire and quickly turning his blaster around he butt ended Thundercracker's face with it, breaking his nasal ridge and sending him sprawling.

“ _No one_ touches Ratchet!” He snarled. “No one!”

Despite already taking a hit from Megatron for attempting to open fire, Skywarp was not about to stand by after his trine mate was floored by the golden slagger and before Starscream could command him to stand down, the teleporter opened fire. Sunstreaker’s movements, despite the bulk his second layer of armour gave him, were agile and he moved quickly enough for the ray to only hit his shoulder rather than his chest, the laser fire burning through a shoulder joint to the circuits beyond. The power behind the hit threw him to the ground but the heavier armour meant the null ray only momentarily stalled a few of his systems.

In retaliation, Sideswipe swung his blaster around, moving it from Megatron until the teleporter was in his sight and not being so mindful of his leader’s instruction to not attack, he quickly fired his own shot at Skywarp before he could teleport away, hitting the upper arm that carried the weapon still trained on his fallen twin; buying Sunstreaker time to get back on his feye.

It was then that all hell broke loose and Megatron, knowing that his moment was now lost, ordered his troops to open fire. Optimus gave command to his soldiers to fire back, it was the only thing he could do until they could retreat safely, but with twenty four Drones in the mix and both Decepticon gestalts present, they stood to suffer many loses should they stay to fight. The front line warriors managed to keep a barrier between the two factions however injuries were making them weak, the Prime had to get them out of there.

Ordering the snipers dotted along the canyon edge to give them cover, Optimus called for the first wave of Autobots to retreat. With Ratchet, Wheeljack and Hoist helping the injured to climb aboard Skyfire, the Decepticon leader’s words temporarily forgotten by all while blaster fire sailed overhead, the Protectobots remained at ground zero until Optimus and his mechs quickly retreated.

The warriors holding the front line were the last to leave, with Ironhide and the twins not leaving their positions until all other soldiers were at a safe distance. As the Autobots moved out Megatron ordered his own mechs to cease their fire, taking pleasure in knowing that he had succeeded in planting distrust amongst the medic’s comrades; now all he had to do was be patient.

Watching the retreating backs of Optimus and a few others, Megatron’s mocking words carried on the gentle breeze. “Tell Ratchet I will be waiting for his call.” 

The day hadn't quite panned out the way the Decepticon leader had envisaged, his aim had been for Optimus to surrender to him upon seeing his Drone army, but he wasn’t entirely disappointed for now he had a new plight. Of course his main objective was still to overthrow the Autobots once and for all while draining this planet of its resources, but in the meantime he would aim to have his former medic break and return to the Decepticon fold.

As everyone else exited the valley Sideswipe and Sunstreaker paused to look back at Megatron and his army, their faces still partially hidden by their battle masks while their cold optics relayed none of the simmering feelings now able to bleed through as their battle coding began to recede. They understood what Megatron had said even if they were in denial, but they needed answers and needed to hear them from Ratchet.

Only when Ironhide and the twins were confident that the Decepticons would not be chasing their comrades down did the trio turn their backs on the battle field, Ironhide stalking ahead of the his deadliest soldiers whilst they silently conversed; the twins deciding there and then that no matter what were to learn about Ratchet, they would take care of him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now Ratchet's secret is out how will the Autobots react? But more importantly, can the twins be there for him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look back, hold a torch to light the recesses of the dark. Listen to the footsteps that echo behind, when you walk alone. All the time the ghosts flit past and through us, hiding in the future. We look in the mirror and see the shades of other faces looking back through the years; we see the shape of memory, standing solid in an empty doorway. By blood and by choice, we make our ghosts; we haunt ourselves. Each ghost comes unbidden from the misty grounds of dream and silence. - (Diana Gabaldon: Drums of Autumn: Outlander, 4)

“What you did out there was insubordinate.” Prowl snapped, his ever cool and collected demeanour out of sorts after Megatron decided reveal Ratchet’s true identity to the rest of the Autobots. “Prime had already instructed you to stand down!”

“I _didn't_ fire!” Sunstreaker bit back. The front liner’s cold façade was long gone and pain was beginning to creep in following the shoulder injury caused by Skywarp's ray blast, causing the golden mech to be even more surly than usual.

“Nevertheless, you will both face brig time.” Prowl became silent as his optics dropped to the data pad in his servo. Normally it would be second nature for him to be multitasking, filling in his report whilst punishing the twins, but his mind was currently elsewhere.

Sunstreaker snarled and Sideswipe slammed his fist on the desk, his face contorted with his exasperation at the obtuse tactician. “Why’s Sunny being punished? He was the one shot at! I was the one who then ignored Prime’s command not to fire.”

Shifting his optics up to Sideswipe, Prowl clipped. “This has nothing to do with your tussle with Skywarp, that is your punishment. Sunstreaker's own behaviour, his attacking of Thundercracker initiated the battle which is why Sunstreaker," Prowl addressed the golden twin. "You are being reprimanded.”

“This is slag!” Sunstreaker snarled as he made for the door.

Door wings perched high on Prowl’s back indicating he was close to the edge. His processor was busy trying to come up with the best course of action with regards to allaying the fears of the other Autobots, as well as how to take care of Ratchet, and for once his patience was being tested. “Get back here now Sunstreaker or face a longer sentence in the brig.”

Spinning on his toe plate Sunstreaker wobbled, his imbalance a lingering side effect of the seeker ray blast as well as the small flow of energon that had continuously seeped from the still open wound on his shoulder. “I’ll serve my brig time _after_ I’ve had my shoulder seen to.” _And after I know Ratchet’s ok_ he told himself.

Sideswipe began to follow his twin but was halted by Prowl’s stern words. “Not you Sideswipe, you don't have any injuries that can’t wait. Sunstreaker, report to me as soon as you’ve finished in the med bay, Sideswipe, you come with me.”

**~|~**

Sunstreaker stalked through the med bay doors, the place teaming with Autobots waiting for treatment. All med berths were occupied with First Aid, Hoist and Perceptor flitting back and forth between the patients, assessing the injuries before beginning work.

Looking around the assembly of mechs the front liner failed to see the CMO anywhere. “Where’s Ratchet?” He demanded, loud enough for his vocals to cut across the rumble of angry chatter.

The med bay fell deathly silent.

“Well don’t all answer at once. Now where is he!?” Sunstreaker snapped as he cast optics over the crowd.

First Aid looked nervously from where he treated Bumblebee’s injured leg. “N…no one wanted to be treated by him so he…”

The Protectobot’s nerves got the better of him as Sunstreaker pinned him with his steely glare before looking around at his fellow Autobots, failing to hide the shock in his face and the anger in his voice. “This is _his_ med bay!” He growled. “And if you want treatment then you let Ratchet see to you!” The front liner trapped Bumblebee with his glare. “I thought better of you Bee…” The minibot mumbled inaudibly, squirming under the gaze. “All of you!” Sunstreaker snarled. “How many times has Ratchet put you lot back together, worked tirelessly to save your life!” His last three words were aimed specifically at Tracks. 

The blue and white warrior had been the last mech Ratchet had fought to save and how quickly that seemed to have been forgotten. Tracks snarled back from the berth he perched on. “Who put you in charge? The Decepticon should be in the brig where he belongs, not having access to our systems. Besides, how do we know he didn’t _deliberately_ let mechs die? Crush our numbers to aid the Decepticons.”

Even amongst the Autobots who were currently shunning the medic, shock at that last retort rocked through them. None of them really believed that Ratchet would have let Autobots die in order to boost the Decepticon campaign, would he?

Sunstreaker’s utter disdain for the pompous mech bled through his words. “Shut your fragging dirty mouth Tracks before I come over there and rip your glossa out!” Sunstreaker was just barely keeping himself in check. The front liner wanted to tear the vocaliser out of the mech’s throat; scrub that, he wanted to dismember him, strip him down circuit by circuit, paralysing his frame while leaving his pain receptors and vocaliser until last. And then, once the former gladiator turned assassin had his victim begging to die, for that would be the only merciful act left, Sunstreaker would force the mech to watch as he ripped his very life force from out of him. Sunstreaker pushed the thought away before he could act upon it.

The hush amongst the injured was no longer out of shock from Tracks' suggestion that Ratchet would have deliberately let bots die, it was now borne out of fear. Fear of the cold and dark energy that was emanating from Sunstreaker’s frame, his optics as dark as the midnight sky and his face blank, almost as if Sunstreaker himself was no longer there.

“Ratchet’s no more a slagging Decepticon than you or me.” If the front liner’s words were a physical thing they would now be coated in ice. He may not know how he felt about what they had just learnt, but the smelting pits would freeze over before Sunstreaker allowed another to accuse Ratchet of being a Decepticon. “And if I hear you as much as suggest otherwise, when I finish with you, you'll be begging me to kill you.”

Tracks seemed oblivious to the danger he was in should Sunstreaker let go of that very tentative hold he had on his self-control. “Well we’ve debated that one for stellar-cycles, you being a Decepticon. You’re hardly what we call…stable, and your words have just proved that. It figures really that you have been Pit bent on dragging Ratchet into your sordid little life, after all, like does attract like.”

So absorbed in what he was spouting, Tracks missed the warning growl that escaped Sunstreaker’s throat, missed when a few of his comrades wilted away now the front liner was flying across the med bay, his bleeding injured shoulder long forgotten as he aimed straight for Tracks, murder clear in his optics.

Only a fool would get in Sunstreaker’s way now, a fool or Sideswipe but the latter was in the brig and none of the watching Autobots deemed themselves fools. Before anyone had time to come to their senses and draw their weapons on the threat to Tracks, the golden mech halted, as though he had struck an invisible wall while Ratchet’s voice rang through the med bay.

“ _Enough Sunstreaker!”_ The whole med bay froze. “I will not tolerate this behaviour in my med bay!” The force behind Ratchet’s words hid how wretched he felt. Not only was his secret out, his comrades, mechs he thought were his friends, his family, were ostracising him and refusing his help. Not that he blamed them but it still burned at his spark. However he needed to stop the golden twin from coating his med bay with life-energon.

Spinning around Sunstreaker’s energy completely changed. It was still cold and hard but the need to kill bled away as quickly as it had flared up while he moved towards the CMO. Sunstreaker's optics remained dark and the medic knew that the younger mech could still turn in an instant if provoked.

“Treat me!” Sunstreaker demanded.

Ratchet’s optics flickered for a moment.

“Do I have to ask twice!?” Sunstreaker may have just tried defending Ratchet’s honour and may have been ready to kill the mech who had dared to imply that Ratchet was essentially a cold blooded Decepticon in disguise, but he was still pissed at the medic for keeping them in the dark.

The CMO looked around the med bay, his frame held taught and steady despite how much he wanted to flinch and run from the distrust flaring through the energy of the other patients, distrust and fear. “Come through to my office.” All of the confidence the senior officer had exuded whilst taking control instantly evaporated as Sunstreakers cold optics held him rooted to the spot.

“Do you have the tools in there to repair me?” Sunstreaker hissed. Now his killer instinct had receded his pain receptors had kicked back in, his shoulder throbbing.

“No but I’ll bring them…”

“This is _your_ med bay Ratchet, treat me here!” The front liner wanted to show the others that this was still the Ratchet they knew, but more than anything he needed to believe this was still the Ratchet he knew.

Ratchet dropped his optics. Yes this was his med bay and he was the senior officer, but he knew bots needed time and space and he currently felt like an intruder. “Please Sunstreaker, come to my office. There isn’t room out here.”

Sunstreaker watched the medic for a moment. He wore a look of defeat and his usual gumption, his fire was gone, extinguished. The front liner wanted to see the medic shout and throw things but Ratchet had seemed to become small and uneasy, llooking no one in the optic. “Fine!” He vented as he brusquely walked past Ratchet into the office, ignoring the stares and mutterings from the others.

 _~What the frag was that about?~_ Sideswipe was on his way to the brig when Sunstreaker’s anger surged through the bond, the anger and need to kill knocking Sideswipe for six and sending him reeling into a nearby wall, startling Prowl in the quiet underbelly of the Ark.

 _~Nothing.~_ Sunstreaker retorted.

Luckily for Prowl it had all happened so quickly that by the time Sideswipe collected himself, only anger bubbled through the bond. Had Sunstreaker's black emotion lasted longer Prowl may now be temporarily offline on the floor in Sideswipe’s bid to be by his twin's side. _~Didn’t feel like nothing, Sunny. What’s going on up there?~_

Knowing Sideswipe was probably reacting to something to do with Sunstreaker, Prowl waited silently for him to straighten himself up before he gestured for front liner to continue ahead and into the holding room. Taking the nearest cell, the energon bars flared into life behind the older twin.

“I’ll send someone along with energon shortly.”

Sideswipe, more concerned by what had gotten his twin into such a state than he was about energon, ignored his superior. _~Sunny?~_

 _~They’re turning their backs on Ratch, refusing to let him treat them.~_ Was all Sunstreaker offered by ways of an explanation.

Sideswipe could feel Sunstreaker was hurting for the medic, despite the shock he was still in at the news, but Sideswipe knew Sunstreaker inside out, this behaviour by the others wouldn't be enough to evoke the need to kill in his twin. _~What else happened Sunny? I thought I’d lost you for a moment there, felt you slide into your dark place.~_

Sideswipe hated not being around when Sunstreaker slipped into that place they had both lived in for so long. Whilst the older twin had learnt to control it, only calling on it when needed, the younger of the two would occasionally lose himself to it, letting the darkness control him, the killer in him taking over his being.

Sure, when they were in battle they both called upon and released this side of them at will whilst at the same time remaining in total control, despite how their behaviour was perceived by others, but Sunstreaker still occasionally surrendered to it. Sideswipe very often wondered if it was by choice; that maybe Sunstreaker found it cathartic, and he totally understood that, had thought about letting go himself on occasion. But it didn't stop him worrying that one day his twin would go too far, and it had been a very long time since Sunstreaker had behaved like this outside of battle.

No response came from Sunstreaker other than his feelings, flowing and ebbing, mixing with Sideswipe’s own. Drawing Sunstreaker through the bond as forcefully as he could Sideswipe was not letting go until he knew what had happened. The crimson mech was completely oblivious to Prowl still watching him sat on the berth, his frame motionless, optics dark as though he were offline.

Prowl understood that Sideswipe was elsewhere, buried deep in his bond with Sunstreaker and he knew that this was just more than a pair of fragged off twins being separated. The tactician wished he could help resolve whatever was going on, talk Sideswipe out of whatever he was currently lost to but he, along with the rest of command, had a ship full of hurt and confused mechs to deal with, including Ratchet.

 _~Sunny!~_ Sideswipe became stern. _~If you don’t tell me what’s happened I’ll beat it out of you when I see you.~_

Sunstreaker knew this was an idle threat. The gold plated mech was now sat in Ratchet’s office, waiting for the medic to return with the equipment he needed to treat his injured shoulder and furling his lip to himself, the injured front liner relayed what had happened.

 _~The slagger!~_ Sideswipe bit back through the bond, his anger unfettered at both the accusation by Tracks and the fact that it was the arrogant glitch who provoked Sunstreaker’s reaction, fuelling the aft’s already deluded image of his twin. Promise of revenge surged through from Sideswipe. _~When I get my servos on him…~_

Sunstreaker snorted into the quiet of the med bay office just as Ratchet walked in. _~You need to get outta the brig first, glitch.~_

Sideswipe quickly quelled his anger, replacing it with something much, much lighter. He couldn't do anything about it at this time and his anger at the situation wouldn't help Sunstreaker. _~It’s your fault I’m here remember, Prowl said so.~_

Guilt bled through the bond despite Sunstreaker knowing Sideswipe was only winding him up. _~Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I’ll be down shortly.~_

~ _I won’t be going anywhere.~_ Sideswipe’s attempt at a bit of humour was lost by the time it filtered back to Sunstreaker, the golden twin’s attention now on the medic as he placed a tray of instruments and bottles on the desk.

Pulling back, Sideswipe came back to himself whilst remaining on the edge of the bond, ready to be there emotionally should Sunstreaker need him. Meanwhile, in the med bay Sunstreaker watched the slow, deliberate movements of Ratchet, it was as though the medic had to instruct every movement of his frame.

Needing to wash the dried energon away from the wound Ratchet picked up a bottle of sterilising fluid from the tray, the near violent shaking of his hands hampering the removal of the stopper. Unable to bear watching the ordinarily stable red servos in this state, Sunstreaker reached out and took the bottle from Ratchet, wincing as pain shot through his shoulder when he pulled the stopper out before silently passing back the open bottle.

Soaking a cloth it in the solution Ratchet turned to Sunstreaker’s shoulder, his still trembling sergo rattling hard against golden plating. Sunstreaker bit back the discomfort and left him to continue for a few moments but when it became evident that the trumble was not about to ease, the front liner raised the hand of his good arm and placed it over the red one, stilling it before pulling it away from his frame.

Turning to face the medic, Sunstreaker kept his face blank, he didn't want Ratchet to sense the myriad of emotions and thoughts swirling within him until he knew how he felt himself. “Ratchet…” He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, or what he wanted to say, but he felt he needed to fill the void.

“Don’t.” Ratchet shook his helm and pulled his hand away. “Just don’t be nice to me.” Ratchet couldn't bear it, any of it. Not the reaction by the others nor the kind words that he was sure were about to tumble from Sunstreaker’s mouth. He believed he deserved the treatment of the others, no matter how much it hurt, but he didn't deserve Sunstreaker’s compassion.

Sorrow for the medic drifted through Sunstreaker and he wasn’t entirely sure why he felt that way but masking it, for both his and Ratchet’s sakes, he gruffly replied. “I wasn’t. I was concerned about my plating.”

Ratchet gave the younger mech a wry look. The shoulder couldn't currently be any more damaged than it already was and the medic was torn between being grateful for Sunstreaker’s lie and resentful of it. He didn't want pity, least of all from the twins. The medic almost snorted at himself, had he not given the twins cause to take pity on him last night? When he drowned his sorrows outside their quarters.

Drawing in a large draught of air in an attempt to dispel the memory, the medic clenched his fists in order to control them before moving them back towards the front liner’s shoulder. The sooner he finished this, the sooner he could throw Sunstreaker out.

While the silent moments passed tension hung thick around the Autobot CMO and the injured front liner until eventually, Sunstreaker couldn't deal with it. He wanted to ask questions but at the same time he wasn't certain if he wanted to know the truth. All they knew was that Ratchet was a former Decepticon, known as Torque, and that he had played some part in the creation of the Drones. Sunstreaker was convinced that they would have heard of this _Torque_ if, as Megatron had informed them, he had been implicit in the biggest death tolls on their planet; yet not one Autobot had claimed to have heard of such a mech, well no one outside of command.

“I don’t want to believe it.” Sunstreaker started, his optics pinned forward, focused on the far wall. “But I’m not stupid. I saw the looks on their faces, Prime and the others. I saw how you reacted too.”

Ratchet continued to work in silence, splicing severed wires and cables together, afraid to speak, unable to.

“Why did you lie to us?”

The medic’s hands stilled, his systems hitching at the question. He didn't know if Sunstreaker was asking why he had lied to him and Sideswipe personally, or to the entire crew, the Autobots in general. “I…didn’t lie…we…”His words trailed off.

Sunstreaker turned his head slightly so he could watch Ratchet from the corner of his optic, trying to gauge his reaction. The younger of the twins now realised that the look that had adorned his sometimes dour features since the previous day's Decepticon raid was a mixture of shame and fear.

“So it’s true, you being behind the Drones!?” It was an accusation more than a question.

Turning back to his desk Ratchet swapped his instruments for another bottle of solution and some gauze. Shifting back around, he couldn't avoid Sunstreaker’s deeply penetrating gaze, his cobalt optics drawing him in for a moment before dropping his optics, the small movement telling the front liner all he needed to know.

With coldness he hadn't intended to use, Sunstreaker responded to the silent reaction. “Just hurry up before Prowl adds an extra spell to my brig time for not turning up.” Regret instantly followed his harshness. He really wished that he had the words to help the medic, to comfort him and tell him that everything would be okay. Or maybe he should just bawl him out, focus his anger on the medic rather than threatening Tracks.

Ratchet’s spark twisted painfully. _This_ was why he had never allowed himself to get close to the twins, why he had continuously rejected their advances. Sunstreaker’s reaction, small in comparison to the other Autobots in his med bay, was exactly why he had treated them the way he had at the party; because the thought of being rejected by them twished his spark.

Without a word the medic rubbed the ointment over the damaged plating, a preventative to stop rust setting in before the nanites finished their task of repairing the lacerations there. Finishing up Ratchet poured the contents of the bottle into a smaller vial and picking up a piece of clean gauze, he handed both to Sunstreaker. “You know the drill. Clean any cuts Sideswipe has too.”

Sunstreaker took the ointment and watched Ratchet move around his desk, taking his seat and quickly busying himself with filling in Sunstreaker’s medical file. Venting slowly the front liner rose from his seat and headed for the door.

“Don’t forget to refuel.” Ratchet’s clipped tone sounded distant in the heavy air.

Pausing with his hand against the door frame Sunstreaker twisted to look at Ratchet but the medic appeared to be engrossed in what he was doing, so without any further words he turned and left, grabbing two cubes of energon form the med bay dispenser before heading for the brig and his twin.

**~|~**

Ratchet vented with relief as the door slid back into place behind Sunstreaker, sending it a command to lock. He felt emotionally and physically drained, and couldn't face anyone else. Optimus had pinged him several times as he worked on Sunstreaker until Ratchet had sent him back a glyph that told the Prime he was currently indisposed with a patient. Rubbing a red hand over pale face plates he glanced around his office, his sanctuary.

Only now he felt he was unwelcome in here and that feeling didn't just come from his comrades; it was almost as if the very room was telling him he did not belong. He suddenly realised that no amount of time, nothing he had done to help keep the Autobots alive and healthy, could atone for what he had done, could erase his past. Nothing could make up for the lives that were lost because of him and now his fellow Autobots would never trust him again.

If this was it, if he was to be cast out by those he had come to think of as family then there was only one place for him to go, he would have to go back to _them_.

That thought left him cold with fear, numb.

So immersed in his thoughts Ratchet missed Wheeljack overriding his door lock and slipping into his office. Not even the engineer’s energy signature had pierced the haze of his thoughts and it was only when Wheeljack called his name did the medic notice his presence.

“Ratchet, are you okay?” Wheeljack knew it was a dumb question but for the first time in a very long time he wasn't sure what to say to his friend.

Startling at the sound of the CEO’s voice, Ratchet growled at him. “The door was locked for a reason, Jack.”

Wheeljack ignored the Ratchet’s tone. “Locking yourself away isn’t going to help.”

“What else would have me do?” Any ire the medic had at the invasion of his privacy evaporated as he thought about the mechs who had turned their back on him.

“Show them you are still you, that nothing’s changed.” Wheeljack wished he could believe that it was as simple as that but the engineer would do anything to make sure his friend didn't sink into the despair he had fought to keep him out of so many times over the eons.

Ratchet’s tired and dull optics rmet Wheeljack’s worried ones. “But everything has changed.” His words were underlined by his resignation over the situation.

Taking the seat on the other side of Ratchet’s desk, Wheeljack watched the medic. “You’ve been an Autobot for longer than you were a Decepticon, and even then being a Decepticon didn’t mean what it does now.”

“No, I was worse.” Ratchet almost whispered. “I worked behind closed doors, under the guise of helping others…”

Wheeljack interrupted his friend, his tone gentle as he tried to sooth him. “You were lied to Ratchet, your life threatened. You did what you had to do to survive.”

The medic’s tone was flat. “And in my quest to survive others perished. I could’ve stopped it, should’ve destroyed everything and suffered the consequences of those actions. One life for millions, not much of a sacrifice really.” Ratchet’s was filled with his remorse over what he didn't do.

“You don't think Shockwave wouldn’t have found someone else to take your place once he killed you!" Wheeljack exclaimed. "And if he couldn’t he still could’ve created the Drones with reprogramming alone, they just wouldn’t have had the strength the dark energon gave them.

Wheeljack's words failed to make Ratchet feel any better. He hadn't learned to live with what he had done, cycle after cycle, he had just become an expert in hiding how he felt, but now that his comrades knew that he had lied to them he felt more wretched than ever.

“This isn’t going away Ratch.” Wheeljack's tone became stern. He needed his friend to listen to him, not shut him out. “So the best thing to do is face them now, if you don’t they’ll assume you’ve something to hide.”

Ratchet snorted. “What else could they possibly think I am hiding that is bigger than this?”

“That’s the point. The worst of it is out there. Sure, until they hear the truth they’ll make up their own versions of that truth, but what do you think will happen?”

Rejection and hate were some of the words that came to the medic’s mind. Then there was also the possibility that he would be ousted by his comrades. He should have been better prepared for this as they always knew that one cycle, no matter how carefully they had covered the tracks of the deceit, for it was deceit, the truth would be uncovered. However between being stranded on Earth and Megatron not giving the least bit of an indication he knew Ratchet’s true identity, they had all relaxed a little too much over the situation.

Not that Ratchet ever really had relaxed over it. Yes, he had been Ratchet for far longer than he had been Torque, not including the four million stellar-cycles spent in stasis after they crashed on Earth, but he was always waiting for that revelation, for someone to point at him and say _I know you are_. This was why he only ever longed for the twins from afar, always wishing he could give into their advances, to their persistence but for some reason he felt that the lie he lived would be a far bigger betrayal to the twin front liners than to any other Autobot, and he couldn't put them through that.

Despite the game that was played, the advances and flirting from the twins, the rejection from the medic, there was a trust between the three of them, one that was only matched by the trust between them and Optimus. But now they knew his dark secret Ratchet felt that bond would be shattered beyond repair. Sunstreaker’s behaviour earlier confused Ratchet. Of all the mechs he expected Sunstreaker to be the first to rage at him before turning his turn his back on him, although just because he hadn't that did not mean Sunstreaker still wouldn't, after all, Optimus’ personal assassin had become cold towards the end of his treatment, distant with the medic.

“Ratchet!” Wheeljack tried to recapture his friend’s attention. “Where’d you go?” He questioned.

Shaking his head clear of thoughts and looking at his oldest and most loyal friend’s concerned optics, Ratchet vented. “You can go now. I still have work to do even if that lot out there won’t let me treat them.”

Wheeljack shook his head. “No! I'm not leaving you, not like this.”

Feeling stellar-cycles of anger rising inside him, Ratchet seethed between gritted denta. “If you know what’s good for you Jack, you’ll leave, now!” His anger emphasised by his standing up before sweeping a red servo across his desk, sending everything skittering to the ground. Ratchet, self-loathing rolling off his frame, felt he no longer had any control.

As the two officers stared intently at one another, Ironhide suddenly appeared in the office. The burly mech had bumped into Sunstreaker as the front liner made his way to the brig and after hearing about the way the other Autobots in the med bay were behaving towards the medic, Ironhide decided to go and have a word with them.

He had been giving the remaining med bay patients a piece of his mind when the loud clatter came from the office and he quickly moved across the floor, barging in. “Now what’s going on ‘ere!?” He intoned. Ignoring the weapons specialist, the medic and engineer focus solely on each other. “Jack?” Ironhide enquired. “What’s going on?”

With his optics still pinned on Ratchet, Wheeljack finally responded. “Ratchet thinks the best thing to do is lock himself away. I think he needs to show the others he’s still the Ratchet they know.”

“And I told you,  _everything_ has changed!” Ratchet’s optics flickered. “Do you think they’ll see past the Decepticon I was!? Do you think they’ll see me anything other than Torque?”

A rare anger, ignited for the second time today, flared inside the engineer, his helm fins flashing an angry shade of red. “Torque, Ratchet! It doesn’t matter what your designation is, it's _you_ who the Autobots took into their sparks. There was no more Decepticon inside of Torque than there is in Ratchet.” Wheeljack left no pause for response. “Who most Decepticons are today, that wasn’t why you joined them in the first place, that isn’t why most Decepticons joined Megatron in the early cycles.”

Ratchet clenched his fists as Ironhide interjected. “Jack’s right Ratch. Once we explain to the others, they’ll understand. We’ve taken many ‘Con’s under our wings and after a frosty welcome they’ve became every bit a member of the team as any original Autobot.”

“Yesss!” Ratchet hissed, turning his attention on the burly mech. “But their identity wasn’t concealed. They didn’t lie to the very mechs who trusted them.”

Ironhide rubbed a hand over his face. He knew that Ratchet’s reaction was to be expected but he still at a loss about as what to do. Maybe Optimus needed to have a chat with him. Just as Ironhide was about to open a comm link to the Autobot leader, the Ark’s comm line crackled into life and the Prime’s voice echoed through the air.

//All Autobots are to congregate in the control room in half an hour.//

Following the announcement a few of the lesser injured med bay patients started to make their way out, their treatment now finished, some of them murmuring their responses to the commanders request.

“Wonder what lies they’ll feed us this time?” Smokescreen vocalised, loud enough to be heard in the office.

Stepping into the med bay the large weapons specialist roared. “Get your afts outta ‘ere before I drag you out myself!” The look on his face left no room for argument and the small group slunk out, believing it to be no idle threat. Ironhide then turned to First Aid, Hoist and Perceptor. “When you’ve finished with your last patients get yourselves off too mechs. This can be cleaned up later.”

The three Autobots nodded at the officer before returning their attention back on their remaining patients. Re-entering the office Ironhide found Ratchet picking up the contents of his desk up from the floor whilst Wheeljack watched helplessly. The red and grey mech opened a comm. link to the engineer. //I need to get ready for the meeting Jack, make sure we can keep control of everything.//

//You get going Hide. I’ll be okay with him.//

//You sure?// Ironhide continued to watch Ratchet's laboured movements.

Wheeljack looked at his fellow officer. //I know Ratchet better than all of you, he’ll probably shout at me for a bit but we’ll be okay.//

Ironhide gave a single nod. //Okay Jack. Call us if you need anything.//

Wheeljack didn't respond, instead he got down on his knees and started helping Ratchet collect the items from the floor. Before the line was cut Wheeljack suddenly asked. //It’ll be okay, won’t it? Sure the others will be angry for a while but we’ll get through this, right?// Despite his words to Ratchet, telling him all would be okay, the engineer had his own doubts.

Taking a deep vent Iron hide replied, //I don’t know Jack but for Ratch’s sake, I hope so.//

Once again it was just Wheeljack and Ratchet, both clearing the mess that Ratchet had made.

“Still here I see.” Ratchet tiredly intoned.

Wheeljack stood, stacking a few data pads on the desk. “I’m not going anywhere.” He replied. “And when we’ve finished in here we can tackle the med bay once the others have gone.” He knew Ratchet needed to be busy and to be honest, he didn't know what else to do.

**~|~**

The energon bars reactivated behind Sunstreaker as he was let into the same cell as Sideswipe, having informed Prowl of Ratchet’s instruction for him to treat Sideswipe’s injuries. With more important things to tend to, Prowl didn't bother checking with the CMO, instead, letting Sunstreaker into Sideswipe’s cell before leaving them with an instruction to behave.

For a short while they both sipped on their energon in contemplative silence.

“So.” Sideswipe eventually vented into the silence. “Ratchet’s a Con.”

Sunstreaker growled. “Don’t say that!”

“Well how else should I put it?” Sideswipe was in as much turmoil as Sunstreaker and sitting alone in the brig, stewing, had not helped the matter.

The golden twin whispered. “I don’t know.” His mind swirled with the day's revelations. They knew something was up but they would never have guessed at this in a million stella-cycles

Sideswipe shuffled closer to his brother’s frame, seeking its comforting heat. For a fearless mech he was unnerved by all they had learnt and he didn't much like the feeling. “D’you think he was sent here to spy on us? I mean, I know what Megatron told us but…”

With plating momentarily tightening against his protoform at his brother’s words, Sunstreaker shook his helm. “Don’t think so. Megatron had no reason to lie. The truth was a much more damaging weapon to him.”

Taking another mouthful of energon Sideswipe became youngling like again in his mannerism. “He lied to us Sunny.”

Sunstreaker wrapped his injured arm around his twin, the dull pain briefly flaring sharply in his shoulder. “Did he?”

“Huh?”

Looking at Sideswipe, Sunstreaker asked. “Did he ever say _no I’m not nor have I never been a Decepticon_?”

Confused optics met Sunstreaker’s. “He didn’t tell us he _was_ one.”

“And how d’you think he should’ve started that conversation? By the way mechs, I’m a former Decepticon and my designation is Torque. I created Drones for a living and killed millions of Cybertronians but that’s okay because I’m living as an Autobot now, I heal not kill!”

Finally there was the anger that Sideswipe had been expecting from Sunstreaker, not the understanding he had currently been showing.

Knocking back the rest of his energon and clamping down on his anger Sunstreaker removed his arm from around Sideswipe and reached into sub-space, pulling out the ointment Ratchet had given him. Turning the vial over in his hand Sunstreaker thought about the medic before clearing his mind. “C’mon, let’s clean up your cuts.”

Getting up from the berth they sat on, Sunstreaker settled on his knees between Sideswipe’s thighs and gently started applying the anti-rust treatment to his crimson chest and arms. Sideswipe watched in silence while his and Sunstreaker’s emotions ebbed and flowed through the bond, Sunstreaker's touches soft and soothing against his plating.

It was as Sunstreaker cleaned the last of his grazes that Sideswipe finally spoke again. “What happens now?”

Golden shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Dunno. Can’t see things being the same ‘round here, not for a while anyway.”

“Guess not. But what about, well us and Ratchet?” Sideswipe’s feelings for the medic were conflicted. Despite the rec room incident the night before, he still harboured a small flame of hope but now, well he didn't know what happened now.

“There’s no us and Ratchet, there never was Swipe.” Sunstreaker’s tone was matter of fact but the feelings through the bond told Sideswipe that his twin’s words were underlined with a resigned sadness. “Besides, I think there are more important matters to worry about.”

“Like?”

“What’ll happen to Ratchet…Torque…whatever his designation is.” Sunstreaker growled.

“D’you think he’ll go back.” Sideswipe struggled with his words. “To them?”

Sunstreaker bristled and snarked. “How the frag should I know? I know as much as the next mech who was kept in the dark. Why d’you have to ask so many questions?”

Sideswipe fell quiet. “Sorry.” He mumbled. He didn't mean to rile his twin, he just wanted answers.

Sunstreaker packed the solution and gauze away before resting his forehelm on Sideswipe’s chest. “No Swipe, I’m sorry.” His mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and he fought against the chaos of emotion inside him. It was so much easier when they were gladiators, they knew where they stood and for the first time in the millennias since they had left the rings, Sunstreaker wished they were back there. Sideswipe wrapped his arms around Sunstreaker’s shoulders, pulling him in tightly, now it was his turn to offer comfort.

This was exactly how Prowl found them. An emergency meeting had been called by the Autobot Prime in order to tell the crew the truth, cut down any rumours before they got out of servo, and no one was to be kept out of the loop.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus has a talk with the crew and one of the Autobot's finally receives a little of what is coming to him.

Prowl followed the twins into a control room full of angry Autobots, several shouting out their questions, their demands for information the moment their optics landed on the black and white mech; they wanted answers and they wanted them now!

Moments later Jazz arrived. “Looks like we’re 'bout to have a riot on our hands Prowl.”

Sliding cool optics to his fellow second in command the tactician arched an optic brow in response. “You don’t say, Jazz.”

Jazz ignored the reply which lacked the sarcastic tone that should have accompanied it, and instead the saboteur addressed the room. “Mechs, calm yourselves. Prime is on his way and he’ll answer your questions.”

“Tell us more lies more likely.” Tracks intoned. “Why should we believe anything he says, any of you say?”

A few murmurs of agreement rippled around the crew whilst Bluestreak elbowed the multicoloured mech in his side, giving a hiss of annoyance. “Now’s not the time to be shooting off your mouth, Tracks!”

Tracks glared at his teammate but Bluestreak shot him his own warning stare. It was Hound however who managed to diffuse things between the two. “Come on mechs, there’s enough going on without adding to it. Let’s hear what they have to say before we make any rash decisions.”

“Hound’s right.” Bluestreak added. “We’ve only heard Megatron’s version of events and we know first hand how he twists things for his own ends.”

Before Tracks could grouse any further, Prowl spoke up. “We have never lied to you.”

“So what would you call it then?” Mirage intoned as he stepped forward. Jazz’s hidden optics slid to the warrior, disappointed that he was not looking at the bigger picture, then again they only had Megatron’s _picture_ to go on.

“It was a need to know basis.” The door winged mech replied blandly, his irritation spiking at being question in an accusing manner.

“Not helping.” Jazz quietly muttered. “We need to talk with them, not _at_ them. Not to mention the situation needs a little more compassion that you seem to be giving.”

Shooting a cold look at his fellow officer, Prowl deadpanned. “If you think you can do better Jazz, please, go right ahead.”

Holding up black servos in mock surrender Jazz intoned. “Woah, I’m not trying to step on your toe-plates mech, this is your domain Prowler. I'm just trying to offer some friendly advice.”

Before Prowl could reply Ironhide joined the group. “How is Ratchet?” The Praxian enquired.

“Hurting, angry and I’d say prob’ly scared right now. Jack’s keeping an optic on him.”

“All to be expected.” Prowl added. “Maybe we should get Smokescreen to speak with him.”

“I don’t think that’ll be ah good idea.” Ironhide replied gruffly. “Smokey was a little vocal in his thoughts as he left the med bay, seems he’s of the camp that Ratchet’s a Decepticon spy.”

The conversation was cut short by the arrival of Optimus Prime, Red Alert at his side firing question after question at the leader. Accusing glares were thrown in the direction of the Prime but it was the Security Director who responded to the sudden hush that had fallen over the crowd.

“Why are you all looking at me? You all think I had something to do with this, don’t you? Look at you all, staring at me, accusing me. Well, I’ve been every bit as in the dark as the rest of you as for some reason it was decided that the _Security Director_ didn’t need to know about a Decepticon living with us.” Red Alert would've continued his tirade if he had not been rudely interrupted.

“Pfft?” Tracks interjected. “You cry Decepticon at the slightest thing and you expect us to believe that you had no clue we were housing a Con!?”

"I was in the dark, kept out of the loop, too insignificant to be told the truth…” Blue optics glazed over as Red Alert’s processor went into overdrive.

Before things could get out of control Optimus raised his servo, commanding the attention of his soldiers before he did something he rarely did in public. Looking around the group of soldiers he had come to think of family, he retracted his battle mask, fully exposing his face. He wanted to show his family that he would not be hiding anything from them. He fully appreciated that not everyone would accept what he was about to tell them, and some would take longer than others to come around, but the only way any of them could move forward would be for them to know everything, and hopefully understand that the secrecy was to protect Ratchet from Megatron and not to deceive the Autobots.

“First and foremost you have to know that Ratchet is not some Decepticon spy. I have heard that this seems to be the popular opinion but is a far cry from the truth.”

“Like you know what the truth is?” Came an angry retort from the back of the group, murmurs of agreement at the statement undulateing through the Autobot crew.

Kindly optics surveyed the crowd. The Prime knew this would be difficult, that aside from the shock of the revelation his mechs would be hurt that they had learnt the truth from their enemy, and not the leader they trusted. “Please know it was not our intention that you find out like this.”

“Because you never intended for us to find out at all!” It seemed that Tracks had appointed himself spokesmech on behalf of the soldiers.

“This is true Tracks.” A few gasps were released into the silence. “But not for the reasons you assume.” The Prime’s optics left Tracks to roam the group again. “Ratchet’s welfare was as stake and the best way to protect him was to conceal his identity.”

“What about our protection, from him?” Cliffjumper pushed his way through the crowd.

 _~I wondered how long it would take the little slagger to open his big mouth.~_ Sunstreaker snarked through the bond to Sideswipe. _~He and Tracks would make the perfect couple, don’t you think?~_

Sideswipe smirked. _~I can just see them in the berth now, getting off on slagging us off to one another, planning how to try and get one up on us. ‘Ohhh Tracks, touch me there…we’ll set the slaggers up…Oh yess! That feels soooo good…make it look as though they started on us…oh baby, give it to me HARD…’~_

Sunstreaker elbowed Sideswipe whilst fighting a rising snort of disgust. _~You’re sick, you know that, right?~_

Sniggering out loud Sideswipe spliced two separate images in his processor, creating a new, if distorted image, and sent it through to Sunstreaker.

 _~Sick fragger.~_ Sunstreaker silently intoned again while this time elbowing his crimson counterpart harder.

“Ooof!” _~You know how I love to share with you Sunny.~_

The small disturbance at the back of the command room drew the attention of the Autobots and almost as though Tracks and Cliffjumper could hear the silent conversation between the twins, the two sneered their disdain at the front liners.

“Oh look, it’s the rest of the ever growing group of our very own Decepticons.” Track’s droned sarcastically. “Trying to distract us from the truth no doubt.”

Sunstreaker’s optics darkened. “Come say that to my face, you fragger!”

“Sunstreaker!” Prowl’s voice snapped across the crowd. “Back down!”

Throwing a dirty look at the officer, the golden twin growled. “He started it.”

“And I am ending it. We have more important things to deal with right now, wouldn’t you say?”

Sideswipe rested a servo on Sunstreaker’s arm. _~Ignore him Sunny and he’ll get bored.~_

Snarling at the warrior, Sunstreaker turned to focus back on the Prime and once Tracks had lost Sunstreaker’s attention, he too turned back to the Autobot leader.

“So Prime, what about us?” Cliffjumper asked again, drawing the attention of the Prime back to him.

“Your safety was never in jeopardy Cliffjumper, as long as you did not know.” Optimus replied calmly.

“Oh, so now the lies were for _our_ benefit?” Tracks took over from the minibot.

“They were never lies Tracks. We withheld information, information that would have put Ratchet’s life at risk had it been common knowledge. We made a promise to protect him…”

This time it was Mirage who interrupted the Prime. “So you chose to protect a Decepticon over us, your own Autobots?”

Optimus moved his attention to the spy. “It was never an either or situation, Mirage. It was a case of protecting the identity of a mech needing our help, a mech who has been an Autobot for longer than most of you in this crew.” The Autobot leader swept his optics over the group. “There was never any malevolent intent in keeping this information from you.” The large mech now looked at Red Alert. “Any of you, despite what you think.”

The Security Director snorted at his commander. “Primus knows what else you have kept from me.” Luckily for the red and white mech he missed the small glance shared by the two second in commands.

“Now I know that you are all aware of our history and that not _all_ Decepticons were set on death and destruction, not even Megatron to begin with. Of course it is understandable that anything they once stood for has been long forgotten as I am sure most of them have forgotten why they started fighting, but when Ratchet chose to jown the Decepticons, not only were we not yet at war, it was because he had chosen the side that offered freedom from castes. He had chosen to follow a leader who, if he succeeded in getting on the Council, promised that he would give all Cybertronians a voice.”

“Be careful Prime, you wouldn’t want to be accused of being a Decepticon sympathiser now, would you?” Once again, Tracks’ voice could be heard.

Before Optimus could respond Sunstreaker spoke up, his vocals hard and angry at yet another accusation by the red faced mech. “I’ve already told you once this cycle to keep that fragging filthy accusing mouth of yours shut, you slagger. Now if you want me to do it for you…”

“That will be enough, Sunstreaker! If you threaten violence again I will remove you from here.” Prowl’s irritated tone cracked through the air.

Angry optics glared at the tactician. “How’ about removing _him_ so Optimus can actually tell us the _real_ truth.”  Despite his mixed emotions over the revelation Sunstreaker had unwavering confidence that whatever drove the Prime to ensure the truth was kept secret, it was done for good and not to harm the Autobots. If only that slagger would let the Prime tell them what they all wanted to know.

Sideswipe had left Sunstreaker’s side and now stood extremely close to the trouble making Tracks, his jet black servo resting lightly on lower back plating. Glancing across at the equally as tall mech, the crimson front liner gave him a sickly smile. “Now we’re going to let Prime get on with telling us what we want to know, aren’t we Tracks?”

Narrow optics glared at the twin and Tracks gave a half sparked snarl, before nodding silently.

What no one else saw was the strategically placed energon blade that partially peeked through slightly parted plates in Sideswipe’s lower arm, its deadly tip pressing against the edge of a seam on Tracks' back, ready to slide effortlessly into his protoform should Sideswipe wish it to do so.

With the silent agreement from the warrior, Sideswipe grinned at his Prime. “We’re all yours, Sir.”

Nodding his thanks to his assassin, the Autobot leader continued to address the group. “We all hide secrets,” Optimus thought about his own. “And I would defy any mech in this room to claim otherwise.”

Several mechs cast their optics downwards, whilst others shifted on their feet.

“I would never betray a confidence unless a situation called for it, but it would seem that those with the darkest secrets make the most noise when it comes to the secrets of others.” Optimus slid his optics across the room until they landed on a now very quiet mech. “Maybe it is a guilty conscience or maybe they are trying to do all that they can to keep their own secret hidden.”

Most other Autobots were thinking about their own secrets; some only minor, benign, such as a crush or secret love, or maybe a little white lie they had told. Others harboured darker untruths although none of them on the scale of what had been revealed by Megatron. But whatever it was they hid, they were so caught up in their own memories that none of them noticed that as Optimus spoke, his gaze was aimed directly at one of the Autobots; that was none with the exception of the twins.

Blue optics held the Prime’s for a moment before red face plates turned away, his own guilt shimmering in his energy field which brushed against Sideswipe before he reeled it in.

Sunstreaker was already making his way to the side of his twin. _~Are you seeing what I’m seeing?~_

 _~Seeing?~_ Sideswipe softly snorted. _~I can_ feel _it. Seems Tracks has his own dirty little secret.~_

Coming to stand beside Sideswipe, Sunstreaker allowed a small smirk to creep across his mouth. _~Looks like we’re gonna have to do some digging around.~_

They were pulled out of their bond when Tracks moved uncomfortably beside Sideswipe. The Autobot wanted to step away from the front liner who was practically plastered to him, to keep him away from his energy field while he tried to retain control over it, but the small amount of pressure from the tip of the energon blade kept him firmly in his place.

Jazz coolly regarded the front line twins and the warrior. He could see the twins had realised something about Tracks and maybe he was going to have to have a word with them. Even if he did have the desire to slag the blue and white mech himself on occasion, it was his duty as an officer to look out for all Autobots, even the annoying ones.

**~|~**

It took some time for Optimus to relay Ratchet’s story; to ensure his crew fully understood the way Ratchet had been duped into creating dark energon. That he honest to Primus believed that he was creating a medicinal substance that would help the weak, whilst being oblivious to the fact that Shockwave was building an unstoppable army off the back of his work.

The Prime told how Ratchet… _Torque_ …had at first been too afraid to run, his life under threat if he even attempted to leave the Decepticon fold. But as the devastation of his work unfolded before him, the medic no longer cared if they killed him, all he cared about was stopping what he had helped happen.

Questions were thrown at Optimus along the way and he answered everything that he could with open honesty. With Tracks no longer riling the crowd, the other Autobots, although energy fields still simmering with anger and confusion, were calm as they questioned the Prime. Most genuinely trying to understand, even if they were not ready to forgive.

Eventually all that could be told had been. Of course there were some blanks, blanks that could only be filled in by the medic in question but Optimus had relayed all that he could.

“I, we…” the Prime indicated to his command team beside him. “Fully understand that acceptance of the situation will not happen over night, but I do ask that you treat Ratchet with respect. In part as he is still a senior officer but in main, he has been more of a friend to all of you and right now he is a mech who is very afraid and hurting.”

This statement hit hard at some of the Autobots. At no point had they thought about how Ratchet would be feeling in all this. All any of them had thought about was how they felt, how _they_ were affected. Guilt washed over a few of them at their behaviour in the med bay and while they were not ready to forgive, to open their arms to the medic, they at least acknowledged that he was not who some were accusing him to be.

“The Ratchet we all know is no illusion. It is not an act, he is genuine and his affections for you all, and we all know that his wrench is just his way of telling us how he loves us.”

Quiet laughter flowed through the room at the wrench comment but it was not enough to break the solemn mood.

Satisfied that all that could be said for the time being had been said, Optimus turned to Blaster who stood behind him, his optics on the large screen while cables extended from his wrists, were jacked into the central computer. The communications officer had been manning Teletraan1. “Anything to report?” The Prime enquired.

The red and orange mech turned to his commander. “All’s quiet, Prime. A small crew of Drones remained behindnwhich I assume are guarding the Space bridge, as they entered the cave and I haven’t seen them since.” With a few deft clicks, a close up image of the rock fissure that had spewed the unstoppable army out, in what what felt like a life time ago, was now void of any activity. “The rest of the Drones left with Megatron and the others who returned to the Nemesis. Cosmos is keeping an optic from afar but not even a jet is out for flight at the moment.”

Optimus nodded at the information and turned back to his crew. “Although I do not doubt for one moment that Megatron is not busy planning something, all seems quiet for now so I think patrols can be cancelled for the day.”

Had the circumstances not been what they were, a small cheer would have erupted from the eclectic band of soldiers but instead they all just watched their Prime, waiting for their next instructions.

“Myself and the rest of Command will take care of monitoring the situation for the rest of the day. We will keep an optic on the Nemesis, the space bridge and the Ark perimeter. I suggest you get some relaxation in and tomorrow normal schedules will resume. You are all dismissed”

It was a subdued team which left the command room, some heading to the rec room and others to their quarters, none feeling much like doing anything.

The moment he could, Tracks darted away from Sideswipe’s light but deadly hold, the front liner chuckling darkly as he sheathed his energon blade. Tracks may be running away from them now but neither twin was under any illusion that he would not be back in their face plates sometime soon.

With only the twins and the commanders left, Sideswipe asked. “Is there anything we can do Prime?”

Optimus watched the two for a moment. Most may find them a pain in their aft, and Sunstreaker really did need to learn to keep his cool, but they never failed him. Whenever he needed them, however he needed them, they were by his side with no questions asked.

“How are you two feeling about the situation?” Optimus was one of the few mechs who knew how serious the twins really were about the medic.

Sunstreaker shrugged while something akin to disappointment flickered across Sideswipe’s face before he offered a small grin. “You know us Prime, whatever’s happening you can’t keep us down for too long.” Sideswipe failed to hide the false bravado in his vocals.

Knowing he would get nothing further from the two the Prime, didn't push things with them. “We’ve got everything covered here. I think we will forget the brig time.” Twin optics shifted to Prowl who was now talking with Blaster. “It is okay, Prowl is in agreement. You need time to come to terms with things as much as, if not more than anyone else.”

The twins stood impossibly close together, their entwined fingers barely visible. It was so easy for everyone to forget how young the pair really were. Yes they could be immature in their mannerisms but what they did to both survive and now serve their Prime, would send even the most mature of mechs either into hiding or the asylum. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had been forced to grow up at a very early age and fight for their survival and now eons later, they still fought, only this time for the survival of their race.

“If you’re sure, Prime.” Sideswipe needed something to take his mind of the events that had unfolded, something to stop him turning everything over in his head.

“I am sure, Sideswipe. Now please, go and rest, or let off steam if that is what you need, but please promise me something. Please do not turn your backs on Ratchet. I will not lie, I am worried about him and he will need his friends around him.”

The gold and crimson twins nodded mutely before Sunstreaker pulled Sideswipe away with him. “’C’mon Swipe, I’ll keep your mind occupied.”

As Optimus slid his mask back into place, amusement twinkled in his weary optics. “You just had to say that out loud.”

Sunstreaker looked over a shoulder as they headed towards he exit, a small smirk on his face accompanied a glint in his optic and Optimus wished Sunstreaker would share a bit more of that humour inside him rather than the frustration he found so easy to show.

“Okay mechs.” The Prime turned to his command team, Prowl and Blaster still at Teletraan1, Jazz and Ironhide talking between themselves. “I am going to call in on Ratchet and Wheeljack. If anything stirs before I return, call me.”

With murmured sounds of acknowledgment from the four officers, Optimus Prime headed for the med bay. It was time to talk with his friend. He expected Ratchet to be far from okay but at the very least he could allay any fears Ratchet may have about what was going to happen now that the truth was out. He needed to tell Ratchet that he was still every bit a member of his command team and crew, his friend, and his protection against the Decepticons was as paramount as ever.

**~|~**

Several days had passed since Ratchet’s secret had been revealed and the atmosphere aboard the Ark was not the best. Bots went about their normal routines but the mood amongst the crew was far from normal. There hadn't been a peep from the Decepticons since Megatron planted a poisonous seed amongst the Autobots, nor had there been any activity from the space bridge. The Autobots Kept optics on the portal to their home planet, having to watch from afar but so far, apart from the Drones keeping watch, nothing had happened. Mirage had managed to scout around inside the cave but there was very little intel for him to bring back. He captured a few images of the equipment within the cave, of which copies were passed on to Wheeljack, but there was little else to report.

It had been suggested by some that Mirage should plant several explosive devices in the cave during his scouting mission, to ensure that no other Drones could be sent through. For a short while it had be considered but since being stranded on Earth, his was the closest they had ever gotten to having a means to get back to Cybertron, so all the Autobots could do for now was watch and wait for Megatron to make his next move.

The end of another day was drawing to a close while mechs idled around in the rec room. A few watched the latest movie they had downloaded whilst others sat in groups, chatting, and tucked in one corner a card game was under way.

Sunstreaker had wanted to return to his and Sideswipe’s quarters after refuelling for the evening, just had he had done every evening since _that day._ He hadn't been feeling particularly sociable, although granted he was not the most social of mech generally, but he just needed to be alone and away from the crowd. He needed time to get his feelings in order and decide how he felt. A part of him wanted to talk to Ratchet, offer comfort and support, but despite their silent resolve the day Ratchet’s secret had been revealed, that they would protect the medic, Sunstreaker found he couldn't approach him. He just didn't know what to say.

The first three evenings, Sideswipe returned to their quarters with Sunstreaker, not feeling much up to anyone else’s company other than that of his brother. Then he and Sunstreaker had words on the fourth cycle, their agitation getting the better of them so he stayed away from their quarters for the evening, fretting over his twin but giving him the space he needed for a couple of hours before he turned in for the night.

They had made things up by sunrise but Sunstreaker was still feeling antisocial, carrying out his shifts with minimal interaction until he could hide away again. However this evening Sideswipe wouldn't allow Sunstreaker to wallow so he dragged him to the rec room for a card game. The twins sat huddled in the corner playing a round of poker with Smokescreen, Blaster, Jazz and Bluestreak, and for all intents and purposes outsiders would never have guessed that the crew of this fallen ship had been rocked to their cores and were struggling to come to terms with, what some felt to be, the biggest betrayal of their lives.

Suddenly the idle chatter stilled and the card playing group in the corner looked out over the rec room to see what had caused the sudden change in atmosphere. Stood in the doorway were Wheeljack and Ironhide, and between them stood Ratchet, looking as though he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

Ironhide surveyed the group. “Before any of you say anything, Ratchet has as much right to be here as the rest of you and if any of you have anything to say, then you say it to me.”

The group remained mute, watching as the trio made their way over to a table. Slowly mechs became bored with just watching and whilst some left the rec room, others continued with what they had been doing before the arrival of the three officers.

In the corner two pairs of optics remained on the medic while the card game continued around them.

 _~It’s the first time he’s been out of either the med bay or his quarters since…~_ Sideswipe trailed off. He had been keeping tabs on the Ratchet via Wheeljack but hadn't gone to see the medic himself. Just like Sunstreaker he was still trying to come to terms with his own feelings.

Sunstreaker watched on intently. _~He looks like slag.~_

_~Jack says he really hit the highgrade last night.~_

Shooting a glance at his twin, Sunstreaker asked increadously. _~And no one tried to stop him?~_

 _~They’re trying to look after him, one or the other of them have been with him around the clock, but, you know.~_ Guilt washed over Sideswipe.

So far they hadn’t had anything  to do with the medic, some friends they turned out to be. Between the command team they had been keeping an optic on him but that morning Wheeljack told Sideswipe how Ratchet had persuaded him that he was going to recharge early the evening before, and that he would be fine on his own. Wheeljack found him early this morning, recharging in his office surrounded by empty cubes of highgrade.

Feeling and sharing his brother’s guilt, Sunstreaker made a decision. _~I’m going to talk to him.~_

Sideswipe’s helm swung to face Sunstreaker. “Really!?” His surprise spouted vocally, drawing the attention of the other card players.

Sunstreaker was already on his pedes. _~If he can face walking in here, I can face speaking with him.~_

Turning to the rest of the players around the table and throwing down his cards, Sideswipe intoned. “Sorry mechs, we’re out.” And he stood to join Sunstreaker, his nervousness at being rejected by the medic again washing over him and through the bond. 

As the pair headed towards Ratchet’s table there was an unexpected commotion by the door and all occupants turned to see what was going on. Before anyone knew what was happening, Tracks, who had left the rec room only moments before made his way over to where Ratchet sat with Wheeljack and Ironhide. After that everything happened so quickly that no one saw that he held something in his hand as he suddenly reached out towards the medic.

“Decepticons are not welcome here!” He spat with derision; everything the medic had ever done for the warrior, meaning nothing.

Ironhide jumped up to tackle the warrior, taking him to the ground as a stunned silence settled in the room, everyone confused at what had just happened. All optics were on Tracks and Ironhide until Sunstreaker broke the silence.

 _“YOU FRAGGER!”_ He bellowed.

Their attention was now on the golden front liner and they followed his gaze. With his fists balling at his sides, Sunstreaker’s angry optics focused on Ratchet as the medic looked down at his chest where daubed over his red Autobot insignia, was a wide strip of purple paint.

Looking from his chest to the crowd, hurt and humiliation flickered across the medic’s face as he began to tremble and stumbling from his seat, Ratchet scrabbled for the exit, leaving as things got out of hand. Jazz had abandoned the table he had been playing cards at, hailing Prowl on his internal comm. as he moved to a huddle on the floorthat was Ironhide and Tracks, the large mech taking Tracks down before he could do anything else.

“Mechs.” Jazure commanded the rest of the room. “I think it’s best you leave the rec room, let us deal with this.”

Ironhide roughly pulled Tracks back up on his feet, both mechs covered in splashes of purple paint from the brush that Tracks had held in his hand. The weapons master was still a bit confused as to what had just happened. He hadnt yet seen what the warrior had done to Ratchet’s chest as he reacted to what he perceived a s a threat to the medic.

There were a few murmured responses before time around the Autobots seemed to slow while an energon curdling cry rocked through the rec room, followed by a blur of gold streaking through the small crowd. Dragging Tracks out of Ironhide’s firm grip, Sunstreaker didn't stop moving until he planted his long-time antagonist into the wall of the rec room.

“ _SUNSTREAKER_!” Ironhide thundered as he went after the front liner. “Stand down, _NOW_!”

The problem was, Sunstreaker was already too far gone to heed his commander’s words, his rage blinding all his senses. Sideswipe rushed towards his twin as Sunstreaker wrapped a servo tightly around Tracks’ throat, his optics icy cold with his intent. He had no words for the blue , red and white mech, his hatred for him and what he had just done needed no such trivial things.

Sideswipe was now by Sunstreaker’s side, his own optics hard and cold on the Autobot in Sunstreaker’s clutches as he begged his twin to back down. _~Sunny, calm down.~_ His servos fought to separate the two while his spark reached out. _~They’ll chuck you in the brig, indefinitely.~_

Snarling outwardly at Tracks, Sunstreaker replied. _~He's not getting away with it! Besides, I’m already going down there after this, might was well make it worth my while.~_  

Too many times Sunstreaker had let Tracks get away with things; taunts, insults, goading comments meant to entice the former gladiator into a fight, one the tri-coloured mech would lose, but all the time Sunstreaker had to be the bigger bot, had to curtail the dangerous part of him to fit in with the Autobot code until it was needed by the very faction who frowned upon that violence, but now he had been given a reason to behave the way he was expected to.

 _~I’m begging you Sunny, let him go.~_ Sideswipe feared that his brother would actually do this, would do the one thing that others expected him to do, both of them to do; loose it and kill a fellow Autobot. _~I need you here not in the brig. Ratchet needs you!~_

Sunstreaker’s heavy venting hitched at Sideswipe’s words but he held his position, tightening his fingers around the throat in his grip, his other hand tracing a pattern in deep blue chest plates as he released rarely seen claws before gouging at the glossy metal, tearing through Tracks' Autobot insignia. “It’s you who’s not fit to wear this.” Sunstreaker vented. 

Tracks had been thrashing and screaming for help but when he felt the tear of his plating under the front liner’s fI gets he stilled, practically holding his vents as deep seated fear shone in his optics. Any pain he felt was muted by panic as those claws left the scores they had made and slipped into narrow seams, slicing through sensor wires, seeking to go deeper and tear at the protoform beneath.

Ironhide, knowing he could never truly overpower Sunstreaker on his own when he was in this state, stood at the younger mech’s side and grabbed at the arm that slowly attacked Tracks in a futile attempt to bring Sunstreaker around. But despite being totally focused on the mech in front of him, Sunstreaker easily shook off Ironhide’s clasp.

 _~Go find Ratchet.~_ He ordered Sideswipe. _~Check he’s okay.~_

 _~I’m not leaving you.~_ Sideswipe was worried that if he left, then Sunstreaker would fulfil what was on his mind, if the rest of the crew didn’t lynch him first. He also knew that he may have to protect his twin against their comrades, stand between him and them so he readied himself, slowly sliding himself into his dark place, somewhere he would need to go in order to bring himself to attack his comrades.

Sunstreaker took his optics off his victim and turning to Sideswipe he projecting his anger onto his twin, hissing. “I said, _GO!”_

Looking over his shoulder at the mechs behind him, Sideswipe saw that Prowl had arrived with First Aid, but what concerned him more was the sight of what looked like a syringe being passed from First Aid to Ironhide. He knew that medics carried sedatives as a matter of course, sometimes an injured mech in the battle field was a dangerous mech and it was always best for a medic to be prepared for the worst, but if Sunstreaker was put out whilst he was in this state of processor, the repercussions would be violent when he came back around.

Sunstreaker was still glaring at Sideswipe when the older twin focused his attention back on him and taking a footstep or two back, Sideswipe canted his helm slightly. “I’m sorry Sunny, it’s for your own good.”

Pulling his arm back Sideswipe slammed his fist against the edge of his twin’s jaw.

Shock flashed through Sunstreaker as he was thrown backwards with the force of the punch, losing his hold on Tracks and while the red, blue and white mech crumpled to the ground, Sunstreaker’s own frame crashed down, his head snapping back hitting the floor beneath him.

Sideswipe quickly knelt beside him, cupping his head in his servos. “I’m sorry.” He repeated as Sunstreaker’s optics flickered before going dark. Sitting there cradling Sunstreaker's head, Sideswipe coldly called over his shoulder. “Now you don’t need to sedate him.”

Sat against the wall, coughing and spluttering, Tracks held his servo protectively over his damaged plating, pain finally replacing his fear. “I want to bring charges against him.” He wheezed. “He tried to kill me, you all saw it.” The warrior then addressed the officers. “Prowl, Jazz, I demand you charge him with attempted murder.”

Jazz was crouched alongside Sideswipe, persuading him to let First Aid check Sunstreaker over, and encouraging the crimson front liner back to his feet the visored mech turned to the tactician. “Actually Prowl, maybe we should charge Tracks with assault, against an officer.”

Prowl cast hard optics around the rec room, his ire at the scene in front of him getting the better of him. “I think someone needs to tell me _what_ the Pit has happened here.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunstreaker ends up in the brig whilst Sideswipe is left to take care of Ratchet. You just know things will not according to plan.

Escaping the rec room, the walls of the hallways closed in on Ratchet, suffocating him; trapping him in what felt like a life of purgatory.  
  
It had been a mistake allowing Wheeljack and Ironhide to persuade him to go to the rec room, he should‘ve stayed locked away and now he was running away from the stares, away from Wheeljack’s calls, not stopping until he hit the med bay. Finally coming to a halt the medic stood in the middle of the dark silent room, his venting slow and ragged and placing a shaking servo on his chest, he drew his fingers across his now obliterated insignia, the damp purple paint coating his red finger tips; as if it were the life energon spilt as a result of his work.

Staring at his fingers in the dark Ratchet was aware of the doors cycling open behind him before Wheeljack’s energy washed over him.  
  
“Please leave me alone.” His coarse whisper echoed through the dark. Ratchet had a very thin hold on his emotions and the last thing he needed was comforting words that would cause him to crack.  
  
“I don’t think you should be alone.” The engineer replied hesitantly.  
  
The CMO kept his back to his friend, his darkened optics still focused on his paint coated fingers. The irony that during his time under Megatron’s leadership he had never actually worn a Decepticon symbol was not lost on him. “I’ll be fine, Jack.”  
  
“But Ratch…”  
  
Swinging around to face Wheeljack, Ratchet snarled his sudden anger. “What do you all think I’m going to do if you take your optics off me!? Become the Decepticon you all think I am! “  
  
Hurt flashed through Wheeljack at the accusation. He had never seen his friend any differently to the mech he had known during their academy cycles. Yes he had changed, had become gruffer and was quick to lose his temper, but a lot of bots had changed over the milleniums, but Decepticon or Autobot, Torque or Ratchet, the mech who stood in front of him was the same mech he had beco e friends back in the academy, someone Wheeljack would do anything for.  
  
Swallowing down his own feelings the engineer took in a deep vent of air before replying. “You know that’s not true Ratchet, we’re just concerned about you, slag, I’m worried sick about you. As for the rest, everyone needs time but no one actually thinks…”  
  
The med bay lights suddenly came to life as Ratchet forcefully moved towards Wheeljack, jabbing at the purple paint on his chest. “What’s that Jack? They don’t actually _think_ I’m a Decepticon! So what’s this then? Them _not_ thinking I’m a fragging Con!”  
  
The engineer looked over Ratchet’s chest with regret that one of their comrades had done this to the medic. “I’m Sorry Ratch. I’ll speak with him, I’ll explain again.”  
  
Ratchet’s optics turned cold and unfriendly. “Save your vents Jack. I don’t need your sympathy and I don’t need your help.” The medic wondered when his lies would end. “I just want you to stop following me like a turbo-pup and leave me the frag alone. I’m sick to my tank with telling you to go away!” Ratchet turned away from the one mech who had never turned his back on him, but he just couldn't stop himself.  
  
Looking at his friend sadly, Wheeljack gave a small unseen nod. “If that’s what you want, Ratchet.”  
  
“I can say it in another dialect if you need me to.” Ratchet shuttered his optics, his cruel behaviour towards Wheeljack eating away at him while he listened to the door cycle open.  
  
“Well you know where I am.” Wheeljack felt helpless. He wanted to help Ratchet, just as he had before except back then, when Torque had come asking for help it had been easy to do but now Wheeljack felt he was flailing. Giving one last glance at the medic Wheeljack silently left the med bay.  
  
With the sound of the doors cycling shut and the fading of Wheeljack’s energy signal, Ratchet finally released the air he was holding. Waiting for a moment, ensuring no one else was about to interrupt him, he walked towards one of the reflective wall panels to look at his distorted reflection and quietly he studied the drying paint sprawled across his front. After a few minutes Ratchet commanded the lights down and disappeared into the med bay wash rack, the urge to remove any trace of what had happened overwhelming him.  
   
**~|~**

As events calmed down in the rec room, Optimus joined the group while Jazz and Ironhide recounted what had happened, both he and Prowl listening intently. First Aid had finished checking Sunstreaker over and happy that the front liner had not received anything more than a bump to the processor, meaning he would be back online shortly, he checked over Tracks, making sure Sunstreaker hadn't done too much damage to anything vital.  
  
“These will heal in a day or two, just keep them clean.” First Aid informed Tracks as he treated the fresh gouges in the blue chest plates. The warrior snorted in retort. As if his frame would be anything other than clean.  
  
With Ironhide breaking away from the group, Jazz and Prowl discussed matters further with the Prime. There were other issues here other than two soldiers having a brawl, admittedly a one sided brawl, and all confirming their agreement Prowl turned to the group of bots. “First Aid, damage report on Tracks please.”  
  
“Plating will heal but I’ll have to repair or replace the sensor wires.” The Protectobot finished treating the warrior’s chest.  
  
“Can the repairs wait?” It was not that Prowl wanted to leave the mech in discomfort, although right now he was not feeling very tolerant towards the Autobot, but he needed mechs to know that this behaviour towards Ratchet would not be tolerated.  
  
“We shouldn't wait too long but treatment is not urgent. I can isolate the pain receptors for now, make Tracks more comfortable.” First Aid’s digits were already sliding into a now open panel at the base of the white helm.  
  
“In that case treatment can be carried out later. Hound, Trailbreaker, accompany Tracks to the brig please.” Prowl turned his back on Tracks as he locked away his own bubbling anger. It was rare the tactician would let his feelings take control but it would not do for others to see how he felt.  
  
“What the Pit did I do?” Tracks spat as his climbed to his feet. “I almost get killed by that…that maniac we insist on keeping around and I‘m the one being sent to the brig.”  
  
Prowl turned and gave Tracks a steely stare. “The last time I checked, Tracks, assaulting an officer was a punishable offence and has nothing to do with what happened between you and Sunstreaker. That is another matter entirely.”  
  
Tracks glared back at the officer as Hound and Trailbreaker reached out to guide him from the rec room, but the mech shook them off, stalking ahead. “I think I can find my way.” He snarled.  
  
The tactician turned his attention to Sideswipe next. “Sideswipe, I think you had better help us get Sunstreaker to the brig before he comes around.”  
  
Sideswipe crouched back down low alongside his brother, quickly scooping up his lax frame before anyone else could touch him. So many times they had carried one another out of the gladiator rings and off the battle field, and now Sideswipe carried him to the brig.  
  
Laying Sunstreaker down on the cold, hard berth in the cell, Sideswipe ignored the complaints coming from the occupant of the neighbouring cell and with Prowl and Jazz watching him, he planted a kiss on Sunstreaker's forehelm. ~ _I did it for your own good Sunny, for you and Ratchet.~_ He whispered through the bond before he left the cell, the energon bars activating after he exited.  
  
Walking past the cell Tracks occupied, Sideswipe paused at the diatribe of abuse the warrior hurled at him about his brother. “Tracks, shut the frag up! No one’s interested in what you’ve to say and the only reason I stopped Sunny from slagging you was for his sake, not yours.”  
  
Tracks threw a poisonous look at the front liner. “You may act everyone’s friend Sideswipe but you are no better than your twin. You are both a pair of sick, twisted fraggers. You call yourselves Autobots but you have Decepticon written all over you. Well now you, your twin and your little toy can go join your friends.”  
  
Moving as close as he could to the energon bars, Sideswipe’s face became hard and threatening. “If you’re so sure we’re Cons, then I suggest you recharge with your optics unshuttered.”  
  
“Is that a threat?” Tracks turned to the two officers. “You heard that, he threatened me.”  
  
Prowl sighed internally. “Actually Tracks, I think you will find he did not threaten you, he merely pointed out that if he and Sunstreaker were the Decepticons you claim them to be, that you would be in danger ut as they are not Decepticons, then you are not in said danger.”  
  
Sideswipe smirked at the indignity etched on the red face plates as Tracks scrabbled for a retort. “This is a conspiracy and you are all in on it. If you lied about Ratchet, what other secrets are you keeping?”  
  
Jazz and Prowl exchanged a look, and even Prowl's optic ridge was raised at the irony of the accusation.  
  
“Primus Tracks.” Sideswipe drawled. “You’re giving Red a run for his credits in the paranoia stakes. Makes me wonder exactly what you're hiding yourself.” The front liner was sure it was fear that momentarily flashed through the optics glaring back at him. “Yes Tracks, you should’ve pulled your energy field in a bit quicker that day Optimus spoke to us.” Yes, the warrior was definitely hiding something and Sideswipe thought maybe he should carry out a little investigation.  
  
“Okay Sideswipe, enough now. Maybe it is time for you to get some recharge.” Prowl suggested. He really didn't need another crisis on his hands.  
  
Sideswipe gave the prisoner one last cold glare. “S’alright Prowl, I’ve somewhere more important to be.” And he turned towards the exit, his mind already on his task ahead.  
   
**~|~**

With the med bay in darkness Sideswipe was surprised when the doors cycled open as he stepped in front of them. Crossing the threshold the crimson mech braced himself, as was customary when entering the med bay uninvited, and tentatively he called out the medic’s designation. When only silence surrounded him, Sideswipe headed for the office, adjusting his optics to the darker room as he swept his gaze around.  
,  
Finding no sign of Ratchet the front liner decided to check the private treatment rooms but in turn he found each one empty, leaving the him wondering if maybe Ratchet had gone back to his quarters. Just as he was about to head to the CMO's quarters a small noise caught his attention and stilling, the Autobot fine tuned his audials in the hope he would hear it again.  
  
There it was. It was only faint but it sounded like a small shuffle. Pinpointing where the sound came from, Sideswipe found himself heading towards the med bay wash racks and opening the door, he gently vocalised. “Ratchet.”  
  
No verbal response came but the constant flow of water told Sideswipe that someonewas in here. Leaving the door to close behind him Sideswipe stepped towards the screen between the wet and dry areas and peering around it, his spark sank when he saw a white and red mass huddle in the corner, a shower head hanging down the wall and resting on the floor beside the still frame.  
  
Witnessing the surly medic reduced to this state, twice in a hand full of days, brought sorrow to the fearless Autobot and shame washed over him, shame that he had left Ratchet’s welfare to others. Rubbing a hand over his face he walked over to where Ratchet sat and slid down the wall to sit beside him, just as he had before, only now they were both sober.  
  
“Hey.” He gently vocalised. “What you doing down here?”  
  
The medic stared ahead, fingers scratching feebly at the purple paint on his chest.  
  
Sideswipe dropped his optics to the small movement Ratchet’s fingers made. “Not coming off huh? Think I can help you with that, but first we need to get you on your feet.”  
  
Surprisingly, Ratchet allowed Sideswipe to help him up, any fight he had left now diminished. Pausing for a moment Sideswipe watched the downcast optics, dull and tired, and his spark twisted. This was not right, this was not Ratchet. Ratchet was full of fire, a force to be reckoned with but the mech who stood before Sideswipe was broken and fearful, a shadow of who he was.  
  
Unable to stand the feelings the sorry sight evoked, the front liner pulled his optics away and he busied himself with refitting the shower head to the wall, allowing the hot water to cascade over the two of them for a few moments while desperately wishing the water truly could wash away the darkness that plagued the medic. Reaching into subspace Sideswipe pulled out a small bottle with a cleaning cloth and pouring the contents of the bottle onto the cloth, he gently rubbed at the paint over Ratchet’s chest.  
  
As Sideswipe carried out the gentle treatment, Ratchet pulled his dim optics up from the floor to the younger mech’s face.  
  
“If there are two things I’ve learnt in life,” Sideswipe gave the medic a small smile. “ _Always_ carry a bottle of paint remover and _always_ carry a cleaning cloth about your person.”  
  
Ratchet remained mute whilst Sideswipe continued his idle chatter, his optics flickering at the gentle massaging of his chest along with the pleasant tone of Sideswipe’s vocaliser, at the same time bitterly wishing the circumstances could be different.  
  
“The first, well, I have to get rid of any evidence of any pranks I might be implicit in. I only say _might_ though as I admit to nothing and the second," Sideswipe laughed in soft affection. "That comes from living with Sunny all my life. Cleaning cloths are a staple in his life, along with cleanser oh and let’s not forget wax. You’d be surprised what the glitch carries in sub-space. Most of us just carry stuff that’ll help us through the next battle, a few personal memories too but Sunny…”  
  
Focusing on the words, Ratchet noticed Sideswipe pause.  
  
The moment Sideswipe paused was the moment Sunstreaker came back online, and he was not happy. Slamming through the bond Sunstreaker yelled at his twin. _~You pot spawn! When I get my servos on you your life won’t be worth living!~_  
  
Not wanting to break whatever had descended over both himself and Ratchet, Sideswipe remained composed. _~I’m a little busy Sunstreaker.~_ He clipped back.  
  
This stalled the golden twin’s forthcoming tirade. _~Busy doing what!?~_ His annoyance snapping through the bond.  
  
_~I’m with Ratchet.~_  
  
Sunstreaker’s anger at Sideswipe instantly calmed. _~How’s he doing?~_  
  
Shrugging, Sideswipe continued to work away the paint. _~Quiet. Looks like he’s given up to me, but what do I know? I’m no psychologist. I’m just cleaning the paint off him.~_  
  
Guilt that he was not there helping ate plagued Sunstreaker before his anger rose again when he thought about why he was in the brig and not beside his twin taking care of Ratchet. Of course at the time he was carrying out his own special brand of taking care but now he faced, undoubtedly, a very long stint in the brig leaving Sideswipe on his own to take care of the mech they loved.  
  
Feeling Sunstreaker’s anger rising again Sideswipe tried to placate him while still tending to Ratchet. _~Please don’t make things worse Sunny.~_ He almost begged. _~I don’t think I can do this on my own. What if I mess up?~_  Normally a confident mech in most situations, Sideswipe was feeling unnerved at this situation, and he worried that he would do something to hurt Ratchet.  
  
Giving a silent apology Sunstreaker sent as much love and support as his simmering anger would allow him. _~You’re doing great Swipe, you’ll be okay.~_  
  
Holding on to Sunstreaker's support, Sideswipe concentrated on the mech in front of him. All evidence of the paint had now been completely washed away so sub-spacing the paint remover the front liner reached out to grab a general cleansing solvent from the shelf, and set to work cleaning Ratchet’s whole frame.  
  
“Where was I? Oh yeah, Sunny and his sub-space contents. Of course he has all that other slag we carry around, I don’t know what personal memories stuff he hides away there, we have to have some secrets from each other, but as far as I know some of his most important items are his care products. Oh I know you all think he’s vain, putting his looks above all else but it’s not true, it’s just his way of remaining in control. It’s understandable though if he did think that way, about his looks. It stems from our early cycles in the rings before we fought in the death matches. We were beaten on so many times…” Sideswipe continued to talk as he washed white plating and wit’s the rest of Ratchet’s frame finally cleansed, Sideswipe paused his one sided conversation to shut off the water before activating the dryers, remaining quiet while the vents blew warm air over their frames, dispersing the droplets of water. When both were finally dry he led Ratchet out of the wash rack, the medic meekly following.  
  
Sideswipe felt slightly uncomfortable about the situation, it felt as though he was taking care of a youngling, someone who relied on him to do everything. But apart from Sunstreaker, the front liner had never cared for another in this capacity and although the twins both doled out care and comfort to each other, this felt different and he was terrified he would do something wrong.  
  
In the background he could feel Sunstreaker’s support amidst the spikes of anger, anger that in all probability was the result of a verbal fight with Tracks. Well, he had not really expected his other half to sit there in a neighbouring cell and not fight back, to be the bigger bot. Stellar-cycles of doing exactly that proved that it would not stop Tracks and his barbed insults.  
  
Now they were back in the med bay Sideswipe wasn't quite sure what to do, until a thought struck him. It was all the talk of Sunstreaker and his care products which gave the crimson twin the idea and reaching back into his sub-space, this time he pulled out a small pot. Producing another cloth, another thing ingrained into him by Sunstreaker, different cloths for different tasks, Sideswipe placed the items on a med berth before persuading Ratchet to sit on the edge of the same berth.  
  
Silence stretched between the two mechs as Sideswipe picked up the two items and opening the pot, the younger mech rubbed the cloth over the waxy substance inside. After coating a corner of the soft material he lifted the wax laden cloth to his face and dred in a deep draught of air, the scent of the wax mingling with the air and activating his olfactory sensors. The contents of the pot had not been used in a whole but it still smelt good, it smelt of Sunstreaker. This was one of the personal items Sideswipe carried with him, one of his memories. It was a small pot of Sunstreaker’s favourite wax and the scent was Sideswipe’s memory of him.  
  
It was what kept him going at times when he and his twin were separated, either through capture or missions. A quick sniff of the pot or a small dab of the wax on a part of his own plating, usually across his collar strut where the scent was closer to his olfactory sensors, and it would give him the drive he needed to get back to Sunstreaker. He didn't think for a moment the scent would remind the medic of his churlish twin, he just thought that if he spent time waxing and buffing the plating that had become dull, it would give the two of them something to do, not that Ratchet was up to doing much.  
   
Aware of how sensitive Ratchet’s hands were, Sideswipe decided to leave them for now and started on one of his lower arms, applying the wax and buffing each plate individually. The front liner could be considered one of the best at this activity as he had been waxing his brother all their mech-hood And when he felt Ratchet finally relax a little under the gentle attention, Sideswipe finally picked up his idle chatter again, filling the silence.  
  
“So the gladiator rings.” He started. “Well, we weren’t always the fighting machines we are now.” The front liner snorted at his comment, grateful that no one they knew had seen how pitiful they really were. “We joined because it was a means of affordable shelter and energon, and we thought we could handle a few fights in return. Of course the fights were nothing like our juvenile scraps, the hit’s really hurt like slag. I don’t think there’s a part of our frames that wasn’t broken at least once in the first few deca-vorns. Luckily for us, although some may argue that point, they saw potential in our sorry afts otherwise we would’ve become cannon fodder for the warm up fights, where they pitched unmatched fighters against each other just to get the lust for spilt energon pumping before the spotlight match.”  
  
Sideswipe was now working across the medic’s chest and towards his other arm. Venting gently the younger mech wished Ratchet would say something, anything, instead of just looking ahead blankly. It was not that he minded doing all the talking but there was no indication that Ratchet was even listening, but he supposed that if Ratchet was not chasing him away then the one sided conversation was better than nothing.  
  
Unknown to Sideswipe, Ratchet was in fact listening to every word the front liner vocalised. It took his mind off things he just didn't want to think about, the gentle smoothness of the front liner's vocaliser soothing him along the way. As Sideswipe brushed his servo across the faux glass chest plate the medic failed to suppress a shudder as his plating tingled under the soft touch.  
  
Feeling the gentle tremor it was Sideswipe’s turn to wish things were different, to wish that the medic didn't hate him and his twin. Sure, he was sat here unexpectedly serene and letting Sideswipe take care of him but it still didn't erase the hurtful words the CMO had spat at him and Sunstreaker days before. Shaking his head free of that memory, Sideswipe resumed his filling of the awkward silence.  
  
“It was after our first few fights, well, beatings really, that Sunny’s anxiety with his frame started. Polishing and buffing was a way of getting rid of the grime of the fight, the evidence of the slagging we’d just taken.” Flicking his optics to the medic, Sideswipe lowered his vocals, ready to tell a secret. “No one other than Sunny knows this, and I trust it’ll go no further as I’ve a reputation to keep, but I was the same, equally as bad. Every dent and scratch was a reminder of how useless we were and I hated seeing how pathetic we were. We didn’t get a lot of creds for our fights, just enough to contribute to our energon rations and any small luxuries we may like and for a while our quarters could’ve been mistaken for a body shop.”  
  
A gentle black servo continued down the white plating on the opposite arm to where Sideswipe started. At the same time Sideswipe's energy field loosened from around his frame and slowly it crept towards Ratchet. After the initial shock at Ratchet's swirling changes in energy, Sideswipe's field brushed at the edges, never invading, just offering comfort and understanding.  
  
“Eventually we became better at what we did and over time I became less interested in my appearance and more concerned about the fight until eventually, when we entered the death matches, I lived for the kill.” As though he was talking about an every cycle occurrence, Sideswipe didn't miss a beat as he made that revelation. “Yeah, everyone thinks Sunny is the maniac, even when we’re not _playing_ at being assassins, but then none of you knew me back then.” Sideswipe’s optics darkened at the memory. “It was like a drug.” The inflection in the front liner's tone changed as old feelings resurfaced. “I was addicted to the kill and I relished in the death matches, dragging Sunny along with me.” Black servo’s twitched against Ratchet’s arm. “It’s really my fault he’s…”  
  
Down in the brig Sunstreaker paused from his war of words with Tracks when old emotions, desires that were different to those felt in battle and had not been stirred for a very long time, washed through the bond. _~Swipe, you okay?~_  
  
Sunstreaker’s concern sweeping back through the bond brought Sideswipe out of his reverie, the Crimson twin coming back to the now. _~I’m fine, just…reminiscing.~_  
   
Frowning in confusion Sunstreaker mused. _~Odd thing to be thinking about right now.~_  
  
_~Maybe.~_ Sideswipe replied but he didn't elaborate, instead he focused his attention back on Ratchet and Sunstreaker pulled back to the edge of the bond again. “Well, maybe Sunny wouldn’t be consumed by so much darkness if it wasn’t for me.”  
   
Sideswipe finally finished buffing Ratchet’s arm and ceasing in both his prattle and movements, he took a hand in his own. Turning the red hand over so the palm faced upwards, Sideswipe’s other hand hovered above it before he dropped a single finger onto the plating. Lifting his gaze the younger mech saw Ratchet frown and look at their combined hands, the deep red a perfect contrast between the jet black and watching the medic's tired face, Sideswipe traced two glyphs in the medic’s palm; one representing care and the other, love.  
  
This small act finally broke Ratchet’s silence, his words barely above a whisper. “How can you stand to be near me after what I’ve done?” The medic looked up at the front liner. “You and Sunstreaker, more than any living mechs I know have borne the brunt of what I did.”  
  
Sideswipe frowned. “What you said, at the party…”  
  
Ratchet found it incredulous that amidst everything that had happened the one thing that seemed prevalent on the front liner’s processor, was his verbal tirade towards the twins. “I’m not talking about that, Sideswipe.”  
  
Dropping his optics to his hands still encasing the red one between them, Sideswipe replied sheepishly. “Oh, the Drones.”  
  
“Yes, the Drones.” Ratchet tried to withdraw his hand from the front liner’s clasp but Sideswipe held it tighter. “No one has been untouched by their destruction but you two, because of them you became Prime’s  _assassins_.” The word was like poison on his glossa, despite Sideswipe’s own brief amusement moments ago when he claimed to be _playing at being assassins_. Although he was grateful for the protection the front liner twins had given them all, it killed Ratchet to see them in that heightened state; where the hellions he secretly loved disappeared and the cold blooded killers inside them emerged.  
  
Keeping his gaze locked onto their hands Sideswipe mumbled. “We were already killers, what difference does it make if we now kill under orders? We’ve done far worse for the fun of it than eliminate Drones for survival.”  
  
The medic raised his other hand. “Stop there Sideswipe, some things should not be known by others.”  
  
It was a pair of cold cobalt optics which looked back up to the medic. “What!? Such as our CMO once being a Con?” Sideswipe winced at his tone, immediately regretting his words. He was supposed to be comforting Ratchet, not making him feel worse. The crimson twin had known he would mess this up.  
  
The energy around Ratchet changed, turning cold as he harshly pulled his hand from Sideswipe’s hold. “I think you should leave now.”  
  
Sideswipe shuttered his optics at his stupidity. It had been going so well and then he had to say something stupid, accusing like that. “I’m sorry.” His words were stilted. “I didn’t mean it.” He looked back at Ratchet, his optics full of remorse.  
  
“Yes you did.” The medic replied. “Now please, go.”  
  
Casting a sorrowful gaze at the white and red mech, Sideswipe picked up the pot of wax off the berth. “We want to be here for you Ratchet.”  
  
“Why!?” Ratchet snapped, his helm swivelling around to meet Sideswipe’s face. “So you can take advantage of the state of my mind? You think I’m so broken that I’ll be grateful for your company.” The medic was on his feet, jabbing a finger at crimson chest plates, sending Sideswipe backwards. “That I’ll give in to your advances because no one else will want me, now they know my past!”  
  
“I…we…” Sideswipe was taken aback, hurt. It hadn't crossed either of the twins’ minds to try and take advantage of the situation. All they had done these past few days was worry for the mech, even if they had kept a wide berth. Sideswipe truly didn't know what to say. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re wrong.”  
  
Holding Ratchet’s angry optics Sideswipe's energy pulled back in tightly to his frame, becoming icy, the front liner feeling a sudden need to protect himself emotionally. It wasn't in his nature to give up on something he wanted, and he, along with Sunstreaker wanted Ratchet in their lives, but the medic was making is so slagging difficult. The light in Ratchet’s optics flickered when Sideswipe’s energy changed as it pulled away. Desport Sideswipe’s cold stare, his tone was resigned. “I may not know how to help but I just wanted to be here for you.” He murmured before he walked away, not so much as giving the medic a backwards glance while the doors cycled open for him.  
  
Then once again the medic was alone. It was what he wanted but at the same time not what he wanted at all. His plating still tingled from Sideswipe’s gentle touches and he brushed a hand over one of his arms, his fingers smoothing over the polished plating. He thought about the caress of the front liner’s touch, such a contrast to who the mech could be when called on. Ratchet knew that he could never have him, either of them, he had worked too hard to suppress his feelings for them to give in now. There were times when he felt weak, when all he wanted to do was to be wrapped in their arms and loved by them. Ratchet had no idea what kind of love they were really capable of but he always imagined it would be fierce and loyal, just like them; just something he could never have.  
  
Pulling himself together Ratchet looked around the med bay. The place was in its usual pristine order and then some, after all he had nothing else to do. Commanding the lights to the vacant med bay off, the medic headed not for his office but for the doorway out into the halls, and leaving the doors to cycle shut on their own the medic walked up the empty corridor and towards one of the emergency hatches that led outside, away from the main entrance of the crashed Ark.  
  
Feeling the cool evening air on his freshly polished plating Ratchet gazed up at the familiar array of stars that gazed back down in return, as though watching over the place the Autobots had come to call home. Ensuring he was alone, that there were no energy signatures nearby, the medic dropped down and transformed into his ambulance mode and with as much stealth as his boxy form could manage, Ratchet headed for the only place he felt he could go.  
  
Disappearing into the night the red and white mech felt he owed the Autobots this. He couldn't force them to accept who he was, there had been too much hurt caused, too much distrust existed between them now. They may have been a tight knit family, the Earth stranded Autobots, but his secret had blown them apart from the inside and the medic couldn't see how things could ever be the same again.  
   
Aware that he was essentially heading into the unknown and that he would probably be punished dearly for deserting, Ratchet pushed on. Where he was headed torture was a surety, not only to garner any information that could harm the Autobots but to remind him that he was owned, that he was not free to make his own choices. Oh the irony, given why the Decepticons were formed in the first place. Of course they could kill him on the spot, and maybe that would be a blessed relief for the medic. He didn't belong where he was going but at the same time, he didn't belong at the Ark. However none of this mattered, torture, death, not now. Pit, for all he knew his cards could be marked by the DJD; even in his vehicle mode, white and red plating shuddered at the thought.  
  
The division hadn't existed during his time with the Decepticons, they came much, much later, when Megatron's fight was no longer about freedom for all, but about total domination of both their world and its inhabitants, and then whatever else he could get his hands on. No Autobot had seen the DJD in action but they had heard the rumours from former Decepticons who had witnessed their work, who in turn, some had disappeared after becoming Autobots, without a trace.  
  
Heading down a lonely road Ratchet pushed those thoughts away and he let his mind wander, and before long he found himself thinking about the twins. Despite the way he pushed them away, and he knew in his spark that Sideswipe had not meant what he said, that the front liner was flailing just as wildly against the wind as he was, it broke his spark to leave them behind, to not be there to put them back together again when they were injured, to not watch them from the distance he kept between them and himself. He may deny any feelings towards them vocally but he loved them with all his spark and now he was about to become their enemy.  
  
Ratchet almost turned back at that thought, almost returned to the Ark and to the twins, but he had to do this, he had no choice, besides, the others would push him out eventually and by his leaving, in a way he was protecting the other Autobots so instead Ratchet notched up a gear and accelerated further away from the Ark, and as his home for the last few deca-cycles became a mere blot in his rear visual sensors, the medic headed for the only place left for him on this planet.  
  


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl offers to be a shoulder for the twins and Ratchet suddenly realises that his decision may have been a bit rash.

With Sideswipe busy tending to Ratchet, Sunstreaker’s attention was now on the sounds of movement coming from the neighbouring cell. Since the pair had been left alone, Tracks had not shut up, goading him and repeating the same insults when he ran out of ideas.

“D’you ever shut the frag up!?” Sunstreaker was bored with the banal words spewing from his nemesis. “Clearly you love the sound of your own vocaliser as much as you love yourself!”

Spluttering, Tracks took a moment to compose himself before retorting, “That’s rich coming from a mech who thinks he’s far superior in prowess and looks to everyone else.”

“That’s because those facts are true.” The front liner simply stated. “But you don’t hear me droning on and on about it. Even Bluestreak can’t bear to listen to you and Hound only tolerates you because he’s too nice to tell you where to go.”

“What would you know?” The tri-coloured mech spat back, insulted at the insinuation that he was unpopular. “Mechs are too afraid to be left alone with you and the ones you call friends, only tolerate you because of Sideswipe.”

Sunstreaker growled angrily into the dim light. “You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Not even our illustrious medic will go near you.” Tracks banked on hitting a nerve with that little comment.

Sunstreaker snarled at the audacity of the mech. “You’re not fit to utter his designation.”

“I don’t believe I said his designation.” Tracks smirked in response. “I wouldn’t know which one to use.”

The sudden crunch of metal on metal met Tracks' audials as Sunstreaker struck out at the dividing wall between them. What Sunstreaker wouldn't do for that wall to be red face plates. “When we get out of here I promise you, Tracks,” he hissed through clenched denta, “they‘ll not find your remains.”

For too long Sunstreaker had risen above the taunts the warrior threw at him. Oh, insults were returned and mild threats made, but Sunstreaker had never lain a finger on the egocentric mech, until today, when Tracks overstepped the mark by defiling and belittling Ratchet. Despite his own dilemma over the news of Ratchet,  Sunstreaker had tamen the attack personally and he knew that had Sideswipe not stepped in, he would‘ve killed his fellow Autobot.

“Oh Sunstreaker, you poor deluded fool.” The front liner could just see the warrior’s arrogant face behind the deciding wall. “Do you really think you will be getting out of here any time soon? You _attacked_ me and probably would have killed me if Sideswipe hadn’t stopped you. Now even Prime cannot deny that you are a ticking time bomb, and unhinged to boot. You’re not safe to be around the rest of us _real_ Autobots.” Not that Tracks ever held back but he was feeling especially brave now energon bars separated him and the maniac next door and the thought that Sunstreaker would at least be serving a very long time in the brig, made him all the more bolder.

Snorting, Sunstreaker shook his helm. “I‘m afraid it’s you who’s deluded Tracks. D’you really think with Drones on Earth that Prime will keep me locked away?” Frowning as old memories began to stir in his processor, Sunstreaker added. “No Tracks, I’m sorry to say I won’t be here _that_ long.” Suddenly Sunstreaker was swamped with the lust to kill, only this time it was not his desire. Tuning out of whatever Tracks was saying in response, the younger twin focused on his brother, trying to figure out what was going on. _~Swipe, you okay?~_

With Sunstreaker pushing through the bond to Sideswipe, the memories and feelings quickly ebbed away until it was as if they hadn't been recalled. _~I’m fine, just…reminiscing.~_

Sunstreaker’s frown deepened. _~Odd thing to be thinking about right now.~_ If Sideswipe was taking care of Ratchet then why would he be thinking about their gladiatorial cycles, and why would he be thinking about those fights?

However Sideswipe was distracted again and only offered a single word in response. _~Maybe.~_

Remaining focused on Sideswipe, Sunstreaker stayed within the bond, waiting to see if his twin relapsed but after a few minutes had passed he pulled back to the edge of their bond again, his brother would come to him if he needed him. The dull drone from Tracks met his audials again and the front liner rubbed his face, weariness was setting in. In hindsight, Sunstreaker mused, getting himself locked up with that arrogant fragger was not his greatest achievement. Not only did it mean he wasn't by Sideswipe’s side helping take care of Ratchet, he had to listen to the strying of insults from the conceited mech and he couldn't do anything to shut the fragger up.

Venting deeply the golden twin lay back on the hard berth and tried his best to tune out, lowering his audial sensors until the words became mere sounds, muffled and incoherent, and he left the deluded fragger to it.

**~|~**

Guilt filled Sideswipe’s spark as he stormed through the Ark, heading for his quarters which would be empty with Sunstreaker in the brig. Sideswipe knew he should go back, in spite of the fact Ratchet had told him to leave, but Ratchet was angry with him, and rightly so too. What Sideswipe had said was cruel and uncalled for, but Ratchet had the rest wrong, so wrong. They were not trying to take advantage of his state of mind, that was not who they were, they only wanted to care for him. Was that not what one did when someone you care for was hurting?

Slowing his gait Sideswipe thought about going back, even turned to return down the corridor, but what would he say? Ratchet wouldn't believe him anyway. Guilt and hurt bubbled up again sending Sideswipe further away from the med bay, only this time he wasn’t heading for his quarters as there was someone he really needed to see.

It was late and the corridors of the Ark were quiet, just the odd bot milling around, but what would be the underbelly of the Ark was desolate. Lights only flickered into life as the front liner activated sensors when he walked by before the hallway behind him was thrown back into darkness after a few moments. The brig itself was only dimly lit, the angry glow of Tracks' optics burning bright in the recess of his cell, watching as Sideswipe enetted.

"What the Pit are you doing here?!" The warrior snarled, rising from his berth. "Come to break your brother out? Because that's the only way he is leaving, I _will_ make sure of that."

"Go frag yourself Tracks, at least that way you'll get some action. Story goes that your spike’s as limp as your personality, or vice versa, either way suits." Sideswipe, his humour currently non-existent, didn't even smirk as the insult easily slipped out. Sunstreaker on the other hand gave a short, sharp snort of amusement. Whatever the reason was that had brought Sideswipe down to the brig, it was worth it just to hear the insults that his twin could hurl without missing a beat; it was a carefully honed skill of the red twin, and this was him toned down.

The look of indignity flashing across red face plates was unseen as Sideswipe moved to Sunstreaker's cell, as was the retort unheard too.

 _~What you doing down here, glitch?~_ The golden twin asked as he sat up on the berth. _~D'you wanna end up in here too?~_ Sunstreaker he’d felt that something wasn’t quite right with Sideswipe a few moments before his arrival, but when he had tried to find out what was wrong Sideswipe narrowed the bond enough that Sunstreaker couldn't quite feel his emotions.

 _~Needed to see you~_ Sideswipe avoided optic contact with his twin.

Moving the short distance across his cell, following his brother, Sunstreaker mildly fretted. _~Swipe, you're worrying me now. Where's Ratchet? Why aren't you with him?~_

Sideswipe remained mute as he made his way to the end of Sunstreaker's cell, away from the dividing wall between his twin and Tracks, and settling on the ground as close to the energon bars as he could get, he leant against the wall and waited for Sunstreaker to join him.

Mirroring Sideswipe’s position on the other side of the bars, Sunstreaker tipped his head backwards until it rested against the wall. _~Swipe?~_

 _~I fragged up Sunny.~_ Sideswipe still wouldn't look at his twin.

Pulling his head back up from the wall Sunstreaker studied Sideswipe through the bars. _~What d'you mean?~_

 _~I said the wrong thing.~_ Finally turning his face towards Sunstreaker, dark optics full of regret. _~And he thinks we're only after one thing.~_ Sideswipe’s thoughts trailed off.

_~It can’t have been that bad. What did you say?~_

_~Doesn't matter what I said, just it was wrong thing, I hurt him.~_ Sideswipe turned his head away again.

Sunstreaker paused, the bond was still narrowed at Sideswipe’s end but he still caught tiny wisps of the swirling emotions. _~He’s bound to be hurting. Wouldn’t you be if some fragtard did you what he did to Ratch? But whatever was said Swipe, he really shouldn’t be on his own. You need to go back.~_

 _~I can't.~_ He practically whined through the bond. _~ I wanted to but I couldn't. He hates us, you know that right?~_

Sunstreaker despised this side of Sideswipe. No one other than himself even knew this side of him existed, just like no one knew how violent Sideswipe truly was. Everyone thought that he, Sunstreaker, was complex but Sideswipe was a whole load of complex more. In comparison Sunstreaker was simple; if he was left in peace he was happy, and if he wasn't happy then you had better leave him in peace.

Falling for Ratchet was supposed to be a good thing for the twins. They never believed they were capable of loving another, their sparks so deeply entwined in one another and too damaged by the lives they lived, but meeting Ratchet proved them wrong, a wrong they were happy to admit to. But where had loving him gotten them? Hurt, that was where.

However they found they couldn’t turn their backs on the medic. Even before they had ever made their first move on the dour mech they looked out for him, always secretly had his back and the others would be surprised, horrified, if they knew how many Decepticons lost their lives purely because they had looked at the Autobot medic when out in the field. The truth was that no matter what may or may not happen between the three of them, the twins would still provide him that protection and they would lay down their lives for him without hesitation.

Sunstreaker just wished they had done a better job of protecting him over the last few days instead of wallowing in their own hurt and confusion. _~Swipe, you know someone‘ll be down here to get you, maybe even lock you up for coming down here.~_

 _~Then let them.~_ Sideswipe snapped. He really couldn't care less, and it wasn't as if he hadn't snuck into the brig before.

 _~But you have to take care of Ratchet.~_ It was killing Sunstreaker that he couldn't help. _~He needs to know one of us is here for him~_

Hanging his head in shame Sideswipe replied meekly, _~I know Sunny, but I…he…~_

Annoyance welled in Sunstreaker. _~Slaggit Swipe, don't be this mech!~_ Sideswipe flinch at his twin’s words. _~Grow some ball bearings and be whoever Ratchet needs you to be right now. Comfort him, act the fool, whatever, just don’t leave him alone.~_

Sideswipe’s spark surged with his need to protect the medic, to show him how much he cared but that need was still tinged with hurt and guilt. Suddenly, pushing that whining side of him away, Sideswipe made a decision. _~ You're right Sunny, and it’s not as if this is even about us. So what if he needs to rant, let's face it, we've thick armour.~_ Finally looking at Sunstreaker again Sideswipe pulled himself together. He hated that he could be reduced to this weak, whimpering mech by the medic without Ratchet even knowing, but Sideswipe could only guess that this was what loving someone who wasn't Sunstreaker was like. Buoyed by Sunstreaker's unwavering gaze and support, Sideswipe nodded, offering a small smile. _~Maybe I should go in wearing my battle armour, just in case, you know, he decides to throw something bigger than a wrench.~_

Sunstreaker knew the humour didn't reach Sideswipe’s spark and with a gentle nudge against the bond, he encourage his twin to expand it again so he could flood it with everything Sideswipe needed. _~Now go glitch, Ratchet needs us.~_ Guilt swamped Sunstreaker's spark, _~He needs you.~_

Just as Sideswipe clambered back to his feet, a shadow stretched across the dim light which reflected on the floor from the doorway of the outer room to the brig. "I do not believe you are supposed to be here, Sideswipe." The voice startled Sideswipe but his face remained impassive as pale optics stared just as coolly back. "Maybe if you wish to spend so much time down here you should take residence in one of the empty cells."

"Slag's sake Prowl!” Sunstreaker cut in. “He's done nothing wrong and he's needed elsewhere!"

Prowl's aloof optics remained on Sideswipe. "Then I suggest that if he wishes to be elsewhere, he leaves with me now."

“I was just leaving anyway.” Sideswipe eventually spoke up, his tone flat.

“Well before you head to wherever it is you are headed, you can come with me first. We need to have a talk, and Sunstreaker, if you do not wish to add time on to your stint in here then I suggest you keep quiet." Cobalt optics flashed brightly for a klik but Sunstreaker remained mute.

Neither of the twins were aware of the smirk that was firmly planted on red face plates. Unbeknownst to them, their fellow warrior had commed Red Alert when Sideswipe had settled down outside Sunstreaker's cell, telling him of their visitor. The Security Director, off duty at the time, immediately pulled up images via his wireless connection to Teletraan1 and sent a message to Prowl.

Turning to leave with the front liner, Prowl looked over a shoulder towards the cells. “I suggest that the both of you get some recharge, we will be talking first thing in the morning.”

Sunstreaker continued to watch from where he stood, view partially obscured by the energon bars whilst Tracks lay back on his berth in self-satisfied smugness.

Sideswipe remained silent as he followed Prowl through the corridors and up to the office wing, his energy swirling, inadvertently brushing against Prowl’s field before he snapped it tightly against his own frame. He was eager to get back to Ratchet, anxiety gnawing at him, but for now the medic would have to wait; it was not as though he was going anywhere.

**~|~**

Headlights sliced through the black depths of the canyon, picking out the sharp and ragged rocks just in time to stop the emergency vehicle from careering headlong into them. Ratchet's processor was a myriad of blurred thoughts as through various optical arrays, he watched the uneven trail he drove quickly pass beneath him, taking him ever closer to his destination. In his chassis his spark twisted with the many feelings filling it; regret, self-loathing, guilt and dejection, but most prevalent of all there was fear. The deep rooted fear of what he was about to do.

The Autobot medical officer was fully aware that his actions would only confirm the suspicions of others, that he was indeed, as his comrades believed, on the side of the Decepticons and that he had fulfilled his task by destroying the Autobots from the inside, the inhouse figting just the beginning. But Ratchet really didn't care for what most of the others thought of him for those who truly knew him knew the truth, but he did care for what a certain pair of front liners thought and he reasoned that it was for them that he was doing this. As his ambulance mode ate up the miles, Ratchet convinced himself that this was the best way to protect the twins, protect them from him and from the new war that was brewing. If they didn't have to look out for him then Sideswipe and Sunstreaker could take care of business and be the cold-energon killers they needed to be to fulfil the Prime's silent orders, but the medic hadn't thought about what would happen when he met them out on the battlefield, as a Decepticon.

Overwhelmed by the emotions slamming through him at that thought, Ratchet lost his traction, his rear wheels skidding wildly out of control. Transforming quickly with the propulsion the slew his vehicle mode made, Ratchet's vents became rapid as he ended up on one knee whilst a hand grasped at a jetty of rocks in order to steady himself. The medic didn't have either the energy or desire to stop his frame's reaction when his gyros span uncontrollably and with a very audible heaving of systems echoing through the desolate canyon, Ratchet purged his tank.

Some time after energon had been forced past his lips and to the ground, the steam from the hot unprocessed fluids had long gone, leaving a cold, dark sludge pooled between his hands. The burning retching of his intakes had been too much and he found himself on all fours, fans still working at cooling his frame despite the cool night air on his plating. Eventually Ratchet pushed himself upright on his knees before collapsing back against the ragged rocks, scratching and denting his back plating. With vents slowing the medic concentrated at drawing deep draughts of cold air through his frame, appeasing his HUD’s warnings of overheated systems.

Scrubbing a hand over his face Ratchet thunked his head against his rocky support, groaning his self-pity while the last thought that had ghosted through his processor before he purged, surfaced again. It would inevitably happen, meeting the Autobots and therefore the twins on the battlefield, they were enemies now, or they would be once Ratchet arrived at his destination. The medic knew the twins would be safe from his harm, he didn't have the ability to get even close to them when they were primed for battle, but he was aware that his life could be ended in an instant at their hands.

This time a soft snort left the medic. Maybe that was a fitting end to his life, killed by the monsters he had helped turned the twins into, even if it was indirectly that he was involved. _Monsters_ he thought. A totally unjust assessment. They only did what was required of them, they served their Prime unwaveringly and in turn served the Autobots, protecting those around them; even if some of them didn't deserve the protection the twins afforded them.

Ignoring the rocks pressing against his back plating Ratchet let the scenes from earlier in the med bay with Sideswipe play in his processor. Sideswipe’s energy had licked against his own, not invading his personal space but teetering on the edge and he realised Sideswipe was nervously waiting for Ratchet's rejection. Whilst Sideswipe had cleaned the paint from his plating in the wash rack he never once showed Ratchet any pity and using his easy banter to keep the atmosphere light, the medic was entranced by his voice as he surrendered to its comfort. Then they moved to the med bay where Sideswipe lavished him with attention, working the tautness out of his frame and leaving him feeling truly cared for, safe.

Sideswipe had also touched on things from his past, things Ratchet wasn't even aware of, such of how Sideswipe blamed himself for Sunstreaker’s demeanour and how it was he who had the lust for killing in the rings, that Sunstreaker had followed him without question. Ratchet was pretty sure none of the others knew any this and it seemed that Sideswipe clearly trusted the medic enough to share a small part of his dark past with him, but then the atmosphere changed, drastically, and all it had taken was a simple comment from the crimson assassin, a response to something Ratchet had said.

_“Stop there Sideswipe, some things should not be known by others.”_

_“What!? Such as our CMO once being a Con?”_

Ratchet had seen the instant regret in Sideswipe’s face while feeling it in the younger mech's energy but he just couldn't help but push the lone twin away, accusing him, them of trying to take advantage of him in his weakened state. He turned the tables on them and made them out to be the villains here. But there was only one villain in that med bay and not just for the lies which had concealed his past, but for the way he constantly dismissed the twins and their feelings.

In light of recent revelations why shouldn't the twins not be perturbed? Clearly they felt _something_ for him, what though Ratchet wasn’t sure of, so it was only natural that they would be out of sorts over current events and wouldn't know what to do. Thinking back to Sideswipe’s response, despite the hard tone the front liner had used there was no malice and although the phrasing of what Sideswipe said really didn't help in pushing Ratchet closer to the edge he peered over, but really, could he honestly blame the younger mech?

Suddenly Ratchet was filled with an urge to see the twins, to lose himself in that feeling of security Sideswipe had given him. Levering himself up from the ground Ratchet lurched forward and launched his transformation sequence, but before the first lines of code could connect a voice nearby stopped him in his tracks.

“Well, well, look at who we have here.”

White and red plating quickly pulled flush against Ratchet’s protoform, an automatic defence mechanism whilst reaching towards his subspace in order to retrieve his blaster.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” This time another voice came from the opposite side of him to the first.

 _Slag_ , Ratchet thought. _Two of them_. Although Ratchet hadn't seen his unexpected companions he recognised the voices and the laws of the universe dictated that where there was one Constructicon, there were others.

“Now then Autobot, turn to face me.” The original voice demanded. “Slowly.”

Venting sluggishly Ratchet did as he was told, optics landing on the green and purple form the first voice had come from. The medic hid any fear felt, coolly intoning, “Hook.”

The engineer come occasional medic gave a salacious smirk. “Well, I know someone who will be extremely pleased to see you, but I have to say that I am disappointed that you caved so easily. I thought the esteemed Autobot medic was made of sterner stuff.”

Mixmaster joined his team mate and snickered beside him. “Just because you lost the bet Hook.”

Ignoring his gestalt mate, Hook’s grin grew when Ratchet’s optics narrowed. “I take it you will be coming quietly. No point in spoiling that lovely plating of yours just for the sake of it. After all, you’re one of us now.”

Ratchet was thankful that he couldn't see the Decepticon’s optics behind his red visor, not if they were roaming his frame in the manner Hook’s tone implied they were. The further tipping of the corner of Hook’s lips also implied that the engineer had seen the shudder Ratchet failed to stop.

“Now then, let’s see those wrists of yours.”

With energy instantly subdued when the stasis cuffs were snapped into place, Ratchet meekly allowed Mixmaster to drag him along while tuning out of anything else that was said.

It was only a few short moments before they arrived at their destination, a greeting party of two Drones and Scrapper waiting at the near hidden entrance of the cave, the very same cave which housed the space bridge. With the Drones remaining at his side, Scrapper took over from Mixmaster, instructing his subordinates inside. “Pick up where you left off, and you,” The Constructicon leader turned to Ratchet. “You’re with me.”

Remaining impassive the Autobot simply did as he was told.

“Came to your senses I see.” A sideways glance was all Scrapper received from Ratchet in response. “Well, now you’re here maybe Hook can be relieved from medical duties.”

This time the CMO responded vocally. “Medical duties my aft! There’s not one amongst you who knows their helm from their aft.”

A sharp pain cracked through Ratchet’s cheek before he even realised that he had been struck. “You’re not a Decepticon yet, Autobot.”

Shaking his helm Ratchet didn't let the throb of pain show on his face, instead growling, “I was one long before you ever were.” The medic just couldn't help himself.

Posed to make a second strike at the Autobot, Scrapper’s hand froze in mid air as his commander’s voice stilled his movement. “I will thank you to keep your hands off our medic, Scrapper. You never know when you may be in need of his services.”

Stepping away from Ratchet the Combaticon bowed his head slightly. “As you wish, Lord Megatron. Is there anything you need?”

Megatron’s steely gaze remained on the medic. “That will be all for now, Scrapper.” Nodding, the Constructicon leader left Megatron and his newly returned medic.

“So Ratchet, you have returned.” If Megatron felt anything about this turn of events, any glee at drawing one of the most revered Autobots from the Prime’s command, he didn't show it. In return the medic defiantly held the large Decepticon’s gaze but said nothing. Eventually, after a few silent moments of staring one another down, a tiny smirk quirked at the corner of Megatron’s mouth. “Hook, ready the space bridge.”

In response, the gentle hum stemming from the gateway suddenly increased in pitch as a flash of light filled the cave. “Destination?”

The smirk turned into a devious grin. “Kaon.” Plating pulled tighter than ever against Ratchet’s frame as a flicker of fear reared in the medic. “I do believe a reunion is very much in order, don’t you Ratchet?”

The stance Ratchet held was expressionless, his energy field buzzing tightly against his frame veiling his violently pulsating spark. He hadn't seen Shockwave, he was under no illusion that Megatron meant anyone else, since the cycle he fled the scientist’s command and although some of the battles the Autobots fought and the patients Ratchet treated were a result of Shockwave’s ongoing work, Ratchet had never set optics upon him again. The Autobots encounter with the Drones at the medical research facility was the first hint since waking on Earth that the Decepticon scientist was still alive.

A second flash filled the partially lit cave. “Connection with Kaon established.” Hook confirmed as energy oozed from the space bridge.

Finally breaking optic contact with the subdued but not yet completely cowed medic, Megatron called to the closest Drone. “You!” He snapped. “Bring him with us.” There was no hesitation as the Drone stepped forward and clasped hold of Ratchet’s cuffs, forcing the now former Autobot to follow his new leader.

Ratchet couldn't help but look up at the space bridge in awe as they walked up the ramp. All Cybertronian space bridges had long ago been destroyed, long before they had crashed on Earth, in another attempt by Megatron to control the inhabitants of Cybertron; yet here he was, just about to step through one and into his new life.

Stepping forward it was only a matter of nano-seconds before he exited at the other end of the bridge, and Ratchet took his first steps on Cybertron ground in over four million years. This should have been a momentous occasion for Ratchet, something every Autobot on Earth fought for, to return home and restore their once magnificent planet, but instead it was a moment of uncertainty filled with fear and dread.

**~|~**

“Why were you in the brig?” Prowl sternly watched the front liner, but his tone wasn’t as stern as his look whole dark optics watched him back.

Not really wanting to admit to Prowl that he had gone to seek comfort from his twin, it wouldn't do for anyone to know he had a weak side, Sideswipe only offered a shrug in response.

Prowl regarded the younger mech for a moment. If he was completely honest the twins were an enigma to him. There were so many sides to them and he really had never truly figured them out. “You weren’t planning on letting Sunstreaker out by any chance, were you Sideswipe?”

In no mood to wind up the tactician, Sideswipe scowled deeply. “I’m a maniac Prowl, not stupid!”

Raising an optical brow Prowl refrained from responding to the retort from the soldier. “So _why_ were you there?” But again Sideswipe only shrugged in response, his gaze now diverted. Releasing a short sharp burst of air, pulling Sideswipe’s attention back to him and dropping his wings slightly in a less commanding posture, Prowl changed the subject. “We understand that you and Sunstreaker may be, well out of sorts with recent revelations.” A soft snort came from Sideswipe. “And I just wanted to say that…well, I am here, should you…” Sideswipe’s stare rattled the usually unshakable officer a little. “Should you wish to talk, either of you.”

Sideswipe just continued to stare at his superior, not at all sure what to say. Prowl gave them orders, chided them and punished them, but he never offered to be their go to mech should they need to talk. Then again, no one ever offered them that, they were all more than likely too afraid of what they would discover. “Riiiight.” He slowly replied. “Okayyyy.” Then his optics narrowed. “What’s it you want, Prowl?”

“There is nothing I want, Sideswipe.” There was only a slight pause before the officer added, “Except…” _Ah, there it is_ Sideswipe thought. “...for you and Sunstreaker not to take things into your own hands. Either out there with the Decepticons or here, on the Ark.” Prowl watched Sideswipe’s face, looking for any sign of, well, anything, but Sideswipe gave nothing away. He too could wear the veil of blankness just as well as Prowl could, if not better. “So,” Prowl picked back up when it became obvious Sideswipe wasn't going to contribute to the conversation. This was part of the reason why Prowl found it difficult to connect with the twins, they never opened up. Oh, Sideswipe always had plenty to say, his diverse range of vocabularies only second to Ratchet, but when the conversation was serious, personal, the crimson twin would suddenly find his mute button. “If at any time you feel that you need to retaliate, against _anyone_ , then I ask you come to talk it out with me.”

A flicker of movement crossed Sideswipe’s face and an optic brow raised at Prowl’s request. “Look Prowl, if you’re referring to the incident between Sunny and Tracks, well that slagger brought it on himself. No one touches Ratchet like that and gets away with it!” Venomous emotion welled within Sideswipe, bleeding through his energy field. “No one!” He intoned, almost to himself.

Prowl allowed Sideswipe a moment to compose himself before speaking again. “ _This_ Sideswipe is exactly what I refer to. You and Sunstreaker cannot take matters into your own hans, and you cannot allow yourself to lose a grip on that self-control of yours just because this has become personal.” Shifting in his seat the Sideswipe once again refrained from responding. “What Sunstreaker did, that cannot happen again, do I make myself clear?”

Sideswipe began picking at the armrest of his chair, his optics now focused on some imaginary flaw in the leather. What did Prowl know about when things became personal? Sideswipe had heard the mech barely displayed a scrap of emotion when Praxus fell. Slouching down into his seat the former gladiator turned assassin took the stance of one of those petulant human children he had seen on his patrols, as their creators chided them for whatever misdemeanour they had been caught participating in.

“Optimus places the utmost of trust in the pair of you.” Prowl continued, paying no attention to Sideswipe’s conduct, he may not completely understand the twins and their motives but he knew them. “And he knows only too well how tight a hold you both keep on yourselves in order to fit in with the crew, but he also has to protect the welfare of the rest of the crew. He does not want to have to protect them from you and Sunstreaker too.”

Looking up, this time it was Sideswipe’s turn to attempt to read Prowl, try figure out exactly what it was he was _not_ saying. “What is it you’re saying, for Sunny and I to be good little bots?”

Prowl afforded himself a short laugh. “Not at all Sideswipe. Now that would be asking for a miracle. But what I am asking is that if you get the urge to take matters into your own hands, such as making Tracks pay for what he did to Ratchet,” Sideswipe’s optics became cold at the words. “Then you come and talk it through with me.”

Canting his helm, Sideswipe mused out loud. “Exactly what are you hiding Prowl?” Instantly, it was though the tiny amount of mirth the tactician had shared with the front liner had never been as Prowl slipped back into his normal reserved manner, revealing nothing. “Or should I ask what _else_ are you hiding? And what is it that had Tracks’ energy so…off the other cycle?” Sideswipe’s interest piqued again over what had gotten Tracks so antsy.

“I am sure I do not know what you are talking about Sideswipe, all I am interested in right now is keeping order in this chaos. Command will deal with Tracks and his behaviour towards Ratchet and I am instructing you to leave it at that, Sunstreaker too.” Cold optics narrowed again at Prowl, but Sideswipe let him continue. “In light of recent events we need to be on our guard so I will release Sunstreaker in the morning but he will be on punishment detail for an undecided amount of time. Tracks however will be at my mercy, not yours.” Signalling the end of their conversation Prowl rose from his seat. “Now, did Sunstreaker not say you had somewhere to be?”

Sideswipe stood too. “Um, yeah.” Thoughts of Tracks were immediately replaced with those of Ratchet.

“Then go to Ratchet. I know things are not as you wish them to be with him but he needs you.” Sideswipe rubbed at his neck as he thought about how he had screwed up with the medic. “If only the old fool would admit to it.”

Surprise flared through the front liner. “Really Prowl, that’s not like you.”

Venting slowly Prowl let a little of his guard down, a gesture towards the front liner. “Just maybe none of us are whom we seem to be Sideswipe, and sometimes things are better off left unknown.”

“And look where secrets have gotten us.” Sideswipe scathed.

“This is true, but sometimes the protection that the secret affords far outweighs the reaction that may be received if said secret is discovered by those close by. You do understand that Ratchet’s life would have been in jeopardy if his true identity had been known?” Sideswipe nodded, the gravity of the situation not lost on him. “Then I ask that the two of you always keep that in mind.” Gesturing towards the door, Prowl added. “Now, go to Ratchet.” Needing no further encouragement Sideswipe turned to leave Prowl’s office. “Oh and Sideswipe.”

“Yes.” Came the vented response.

“I meant what I said, about talking to me. My door is always open.” Sideswipe merely turned his upper frame slightly, not quite sure what it was Prowl wanted him to say, so he merely nodded his acknowledgement before exiting.

Walking down the corridor, the Prime’s assassin encountered Jazz. “Yo Siders, what brings you down this neck of the woods?”

Without breaking stride the front liner’s words were thrown over his shoulder as he passed. “Oh you know me Jazz, the usual slag.”

Jazz chuckled after the retreating mech. “No getting into trouble now mech.”

Already around the corner of the corridor Sideswipe’s reply floated behind him. “As if I would.”

Turning around, Jazz found Prowl stood in his doorway. “So, how’d it go?”

Prowl slid his optics from the corner Sideswipe had disappeared around to his fellow second in command. “Who knows with Sideswipe.”

Smirking, Jazz asked, “What Prowl, no calculated outcomes? Words not chosen based on the best results.”

“Even you know behaviour is unpredictable, Jazz. The only thing we can do now is speak with Tracks.” Prowl headed back into his office, Jazz following.

“I’m not sure what’s gotten into the mech. He’s an aft at the best of times but he’s the last mech I thought would be bleating on about Cons masquerading as Autobots.” Jazz planted himself on the corner of Prowl’s desk, much to the tactician’s annoyance.

“Tracks is not masquerading as anything. He has only ever been an Autobot”

“Yeah, yeah.” The saboteur dismissed whatever Prowl was about to say with a wave of his hand. “You know what I mean. If there’s anyone who shouldn’t be drawing attention to himself, it’s him.”

“As I said, I will speak with Tracks. Now if you will Jazz, there is a chair over there for sitting on.” Almost dutifully Jazz slid off the desk and seated himself in the chair Sideswipe had vacated, and settled himself down for a long conversation with Prowl.

**~|~**

“Welcome, Lord Megatron.” Ratchet didn't need to see the mech to know who greeted them. “What, may I ask, brings you to Cybertron?

“Shockwave.” Megatron greeted in return. “I come bearing a gift.” Stepping aside, Megatron gestured for his accompanying Drone to step forward, Shockwave’s gift in tow.

A single red optic studied the mech presented to him. “An Autobot?” The scientist questioned. “Thank you my Lord. I am sure that I can find a use for him. There are many experiments which require testing.”

“Oh but Shockwave, this is not just _any_ Autobot. Why this is a Decepticon turned Autobot, finally returning to the fold.”

Shockwave stepped closer to the visiting party, the gun-hand he didn't have when Ratchet knew him, rising to meet the chin of Ratchet’s bowed helm, forcing the medic to look at him. A few beats passed before Shockwave monotoned. “Torque.”

Defiant optics looked back at the scientist, words spoken through gritted denta. “My designation is Ratchet. Torque died a long time ago.”

The Decepticon took a few more moments to look over Ratchet’s form. “I did not count on you surviving your escape. It seems that I was incorrect in my assumption and you have been playing the role of Autobot all these stellar-cycles.”

“I _am_ an Autobot.” Ratchet spat back. There had been no _playing_ about it. Suddenly Ratchet was not so sure that he had made the right decision. The Decepticons ideals had long changed since Ratchet had defected, and the medic realised that returning to them would have repercussions for both him and for the Autobots.

As much as Megatron enjoyed watching this little display of defiance from the medic he wanted to know what Ratchet’s true intentions were before he left him in Shockwave’s hands. “You will both have plenty of time to get reacquainted but first I wish to know why Ratchet has decided to return to us.”

Shockwave released Ratchet’s chin and turned his attention on his commander. “Cortical psychic patch?”

“You read my mind, and whilst we are at it we may be able to glean a few Autobot secrets.” Megatron leered at the medic. “I do believe Ratchet here has become a close friend to the Prime. He should be privy to more than that discussed in meetings.”

Blue optics dilated in sudden fear. He knew many secrets and had become a close friend and confidant to Optimus. He really hadn't thought any of this through. Still under the control of the stasis cuffs, Ratchet's processor was sluggish but already he was partitioning off files, activating dormant firewalls. He was sure that Shockwave would have no problem in breaking them down but it should slow his progress a bit. For what reason though Ratchet didn't know, it wasn't as if anyone who might have come for him even knew he was here.

“You.” Shockwave tersely addressed the Drone with Ratchet. “Strap him to that table over there.”

Doing as instructed, the Decepticon Drone led the white and red mech to the table, releasing one wrist from the stasis cuffs and clamping it to the surface before repeating the process with his other wrist. Before Ratchet’s full energy could return now he was released from the cuffs, the Drone clamped the medic at his ankles. With Ratchet secure Shockwave made his way to the table, one end of the neural cable already plugged into a port at the nape of his neck, the other end primed and ready to connect with Ratchet.

Flinching away as far as his bonds would allow him, Ratchet attempted to fight the connection but the same Drone who had strapped him to the table, gripped his head, twisting it painfully to expose a port for Shockwave to jack into. Frame stiffening as the connection was established between the two, several lines of code instantly assaulted his processor sending Ratchet into a semi-like stasis state. However Ratchet was no push over, he may have convinced himself that returning to his old faction was the only thing he could do but he was not going to put the Autobots lives at risk so easily.

“Do not fight the inevitable.” Shockwave intoned. “It will be far better all round if you submit now.”

 _Far better for who?_ Ratchet could only muster the thought, his vocaliser already off line as further codes were sent through to disable a selection of systems. But despite how desperately Ratchet worked at maintaining his firewalls, cooling fans spinning into life as the exertion of blocking the invasion to his processor taxed his systems, one at a time the barriers were breached and his memories were laid bare for all to see as Shockwave connected himself to the console in his lab.

Shockwave worked backwards, starting with the most recent memories, looking for the point when Ratchet left the Ark. The Decepticons watched as the medic seemed to just simply leave. There was no waving off party, that they could tell, just the view as the medic looked up at the stars for a short while before transforming and leaving the Autobot base behind.

Fingers moving swiftly over the console again, the scientist moved back from that moment until they came across footage of the medic with another Autobot. jUrging at how closely the second was to Ratchet’s frame, it seemed that the two were close. As Ratchet relived the memories of comfort from Sideswipe, the feeling of being safe welled within Ratchet while he could only wish that what the Decepticons were seeing, had played out differently; and just maybe he would have remained where he was. But as the memory played on, Megatron and Shockwave listened to the angry words shared between the two, although the crimson mech was the more subdued of the two now.

Megatron turned to look at the semi coherent Ratchet and snorted with dark mirth. “You and the front liner? Very interesting indeed.”

Ratchet’s optics flickered weakly. He was still fighting against the invasion in his processor, of his memories as well as the guilt that consumed his spark at reliving the words he had cruelly flung at Sideswipe.

Going a little further back, the watching Decepticons bore witness to the moment which led up to Ratchet’s time in the med bay with Sideswipe. “It would seem, Lord Megatron,” Shockwave announced, “that not all Autobots are the forgiving type.” After watching Ratchet retreat in humiliation at what had been done to him, Shockwave moved further back through his memories, sensing that the medic had more or less cut himself off from the rest of his faction.

Then they came across _that_ day, the day when Megatron announced to all who Ratchet really was. Megatron watched, through the medic’s optics with self-satisfaction on his own face as he heard himself reveal the millennia guarded secret, and the Decepticon leader found himself musing over what the medic was feeling in that moment. The warlord wanted to relish in the fear he had evoked.

Shockwave reached out to the console to once more rifle through memories but was stopped by Megatron. “Wait, I wish to see this one play out. See what happens when they return to the Ark.” Obeying his commander, the scientist left the memories play and they eventually found themselves surveying the med bay, witnessing Ratchet’s rejection by his comrades and his retreat to his office. Just as the voyeurs thought nothing of interest was to be found in this series of events, the Autobot CMO left his office, spitting an angry command through the med bay. Then they were looking at Sunstreaker and listening to the conversations between the two, both in the med bay and the confines of the office.

A sly smirk crawled across Megatron’s mouth again. “Both front liners?” He questioned to no one in particular. Had he found a possible weak link within the Autobots?

Before they could jump further back in Ratchet’s memories a communications request blared from the console, a connection from Earth, from Thundercracker. //Lord Megatron, we need back up.//

Exasperation filled the warlord. It was just a simple mission. “Autobots?”

//Not yet, Air Force in their dozens. Starscream is down, Ramjet and crew are still twelve kliks away. Request urgent assistance from Drones to extract Starscream from behind enemy lines via the space bridge.//

“The very _Drones_ that Starscream did not need for the mission.” Megatron deadpanned.

Static filled the comm. link for a moment before Thundercracker’s voice scratched over the line again. //We did not bank on the Air Force joining our little party.//

Megatron released his frustration through various vents. If the Air Force was involved it would only be a matter of time before the Autobots would be too, but they needed that power source in order to keep the space bridge operating at maximum capacity. “And the power source?”

//Secured.//

“Then back up is on its way.” A burst of static came in reply before the link was terminated. Turning to Shockwave, Megatron announced. “I think I have seen enough for now, it seems that the Prime and his Autobots were oblivious to the desertion of their medic. As for the twins, that little nugget of information will add quite a twist to things, wouldn’t you say Ratchet?” But with the patch and coding still in place, Ratchet was only vaguely aware of the words which tumbled from the Decepticon’s mouth.

Not bothering to wait for a response, Megatron stepped up to the space bridge and waited for one of the Drones to activate it for him. With power surging outwards from the bridge Megatron threw one last comment over his shoulder. “The medic is yours to do as you see fit Shockwave.” And with that, he was gone.

With Ratchet’s memories continuing to play out on the large screen, Shockwave and his remaining Drones watched for a moment. The scientist was tempted to go back further but with more important things to do he keyed in a new line code and disconnected the link between himself and Ratchet, and as he waited for the medic to come out of his dazed state, the large purple Decepticon continued with his work.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets! Secrets! Secrets!! How long will it be before the Autobots realise Ratchet is missing, and yes, the Autobots have been harbouring another secret.

Wheeljack came rushing out of the med bay, blindly careering into Sideswipe. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! He flustered. “Didn’t see you there.”  
  
Barely losing his footing despite the clang of plating echoing around them as they crashed into one another, the front liner gripped the engineer’s upper arms and gently shook him. “Jack, snap out of it. Why so flustered?” A rainbow of colours flickered before Sideswipe’s optics as Wheeljack’s helm fins flashed riotously in his panic.  
  
“Have you seen Ratchet?” Wheeljack gripped back at Sideswipe’s arms, his optics pleading at Sideswipe to say yes.  
  
Frowning, the younger mech looked over the engineer’s helm and through the med bay doors. “I left him in here. Why?”  
  
“He’s not here. I can’t find him.” Wheeljack continued. “And his comm is off.” His energy was frantic and Sideswipe felt that if the unflappable mech was panicking, then there was something to be panicking over.  
  
Pushing past Wheeljack, Sideswipe barged into the med bay. “Have you tried his quarters? He was pretty fragged off with me and may have gone to hide there.” Sideswipe was already checking the private treatment rooms, just as he had only an hour or so ago.  
  
“Been there.” Wheeljack re-entered the med bay behind the front liner. “No reply.”  
  
“May just be ignoring you.” Sideswipe suggested as he headed for the med bay wash rack, pushing down his growing concern for Ratchet’s whereabouts while trying the medic’s comm himself.  
  
“What did you do to upset him?”  
  
“Eh?” Sideswipe retorted as he concentrated on ping after ping via his comm.  
  
“You said Ratchet was fragged off with you, what did you do?” The engineer watched the younger mech closely and saw the minute tensing in his features indicating that something had happened. “Sideswipe?”  
  
Sideswipe’s guilt got the better of him. “Why’s everyone so hung up on what I did?” He snapped. “Just fragged him off okay! It was a bad idea me trying to comfort him, it’s not as if he even likes us.”  
  
“Don’t beat yourself up Sideswipe, he’s just not in his right frame of mind.” Wheeljack moved towards the front liner, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong.”  
  
Wanting to shrug off the touch but leaving Wheeljack’s hand where it was, Sideswipe shuttered his optics. “But it’s not only now is it Jack. He’s always rejected us. We’ve just been too stubborn to accept it.”  
  
Wheeljack wished he could put the young mech out of his misery and tell him, both of them how Ratchet really felt, but it wasn't his place to do so. Then again if it would help his friend then maybe it was the right thing to do. If telling Sideswipe how Ratchet really felt about him and Sunstreaker meant that the twins would do their damnedest to ensure the medic was safe, then he had to do it.  
  
“You can’t give up on him.” He started, almost pleading.  
  
Sideswipe vented. “And why not Jack? It’s what he wants, for us to leave him be.” This was the first time Sideswipe had allowed himself to even think of walking away from the medic and being his invisible guardian, and he hated himself for thinking it.  
  
“Because…” Wheeljack fought with himself. Once he said it there would be no taking it back. Sideswipe turned to look at Wheeljack when he didn’t continue, his optics questioning. “Because he loves you!” The words tumbled out quickly before Ratchet’s oldest friend could bite them back. “And all he’s ever done is try to protect you from his past.”  
  
Spark racing, Sideswipe’s mind became a jumble of thoughts. All the rejections, the harsh words, even a short while ago, Ratchet accused him of trying to take advantage yet here was Wheeljack telling him that Ratchet _loved_ them. None of it made sense. “I don’t believe you.” He needed time to digest what the engineer had just said.  
  
Tilting his head Wheeljack looked sadly at the front liner. “He’s hurt you, I understand that, but believe me when I say he was only trying to protect you.”  
  
Finally shrugging off Wheeljack’s hand Sideswipe walked away. “We don’t need protecting, that’s our job.”  
  
“Even protectors need shielding once in while Sideswipe.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter.” Sideswipe cut in. “Any of it, not any more. Love us or hate us all that matters is _we_ protect him, and so far we’ve done a bang up job of that.” The front liner headed for the door. If Sideswipe was honest he was reeling from that little revelation. Regardless of his and Sunstreaker’s constant attempts to woo Ratchet, deep down they had known that Ratchet held no interest in them, not in the way they wanted anyway. But despite any of this the twins vowed to one another that they would always be there for him, even if he never realised.  
  
Wheeljack was quickly on the front liner’s heels. “Sidesiwpe.”  
  
“Mmmm.” The crimson twin was focused on steaming towards Ratchet’s quarters.  
  
“I know.” Wheeljack ventured.  
  
“Know what?!” Sideswipe snapped. He liked Wheeljack but right now he wished the eccentric mech would just hush it so that he could think.  
  
“What…what you and Sunstreaker do, for Ratchet, each time we go out there.” Sideswipe threw a look over his shoulder at the engineer. “I know you have his back, always watching out for him regardless of whatever fight you have on your hands. And I don’t want to know how many lives have been lost _just_ because of Ratchet …” Sideswipe bristled as he looked ahead again. “But thank you.”  
  
Silence was all that came from the foreboding front liner. As far as he was concerned he and Sunstreaker needed no thanks, not for protecting the one mech they wouldn’t hesitate in giving their lives for.  
  
“I just ask you not to give up on him.”  
  
Wheeljack almost crashed into Sideswipe again as the front liner came to an abrupt halt outside Ratchet’s door, fist banging against the metal surface. “Ratchet, if you don’t come out I’m coming in!” The hallway fell silent as the two mechs waited for an answer. “Ratchet!” Sideswipe shouted again. “Don’t make me force my way in!” But they were only met with the same silence. “Don’t you have his dor code?” Sideswipe asked his companion.  
  
“Yes…but…”  
  
“Then key it in!” Sideswipe demanded, fist banging against the metal door again.  
  
“I can’t do that, it’s not an emergency.” Wheeljack protested. “He’d reformat my aft in an instant if I barged in there and interrupted him.”  
  
Turning and puffing out his armour in an attempt to intimidate the older mech, Sideswipe growled. “And what exactly d’you think you’re going to interrupt?”  
  
Fidgeting, Wheeljack dropped his optics to the floor. “Well, nothing I guess, but still…”  
  
_“RATCHET!”_ Sideswipe yelled again, drowning out whatever Wheeljack was saying. “Get your aft out here, _now!_ ” Taking a few steps away from the door Sideswipe sneered at Wheeljack. “Well if you won’t help me then I’ll just have to get in there myself.”  
  
Pushing extra power through to the hydraulics in his legs Sideswipe launched himself at the door to Ratchet’s quarters, his shoulder dropped and ready to slam into the metal barrier in a bid to break the seal. Suddenly the front liner was knocked sideways, strong arms wrapping around him as he was pushed away from the door.  
  
“Unff!” The force of his frame being shoved against the wall beside the door he had been targeting, knocked the air out of his vents. “The frag?!” Sideswipe wheezed as he tried to refocus his optics.  
  
“Now, what d’you think you're doing?” Sideswipe instantly recognised Ironhide’s dulcet tones. “That’s no way to be behaving, is it?”  
  
Regaining control Sideswipe shoved at his immediate commander. “Frag off Hide!” But his behaviour only resulted in his frame being pinned between the wall and Ironhide’s heavy frame.  
  
“Cool it Sides or I’ll haul your aft to the brig.”  
  
Baring his denta Sideswipe snarled, “Fine!” Before relaxing his frame, letting Ironhide know he conceded.  
  
The burly mech held Sideswipe in place for a few more moments until he was sure the front liner had calmed down before he stepped back, releasing the younger mech. “Now what’s so urgent you need to be busting down Ratchet’s door?” Steely optics bore into Sideswipe’s, warning the soldier not to feed him any slag.  
  
Glaring back defiantly Sideswipe retorted. “He wasn’t answering. Jack’s been looking for him but couldn’t find him, I thought he may be hiding away.”  
  
Ironhide kept his optics on the front liner, wary of how quickly Sideswipe could move if cornered. “This true?” He asked over his shoulder at Wheeljack.  
  
Giving an unseen nod, Wheeljack added. “He’s not answering his comm. either.”  
  
“And do either of you know if he’s been seen since the rec room?” Sideswipe remained silent whilst Wheeljack fidgeted. “Well?”  
  
“Sideswipe was with him.” The engineer offered his fellow officer.  
  
With a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, Ironhide took another step back. “And don’t tell me, you fragged him off.”  
  
Annoyance flashed across Sideswipe’s face. “Frag off.” He muttered under his vents. He was fully aware he had messed up but that didn’t mean he wanted others pointing this out.  
  
“My guess is the old mech is just after some peace and quiet, and I suggest we let him have it.” The weapons expert turned and clapped Wheeljack on the shoulder. “I’m sure he’s perfectly fine Jack and I'm guessing a little fragged off he can’t get any peace. Now I think we’ve all had a bit too much excitement for the night and suggest we speak to Ratchet in the morning. Agreed?”  
  
Looking over at Sideswipe, Ironhide’s face told the front liner that there was no room for argument. “Fine!” Sideswipe muttered again, peeling himself off the wall. “But if he doesn‘t answer tomorrow then I’m going in, with or without his key code.”  
  
Before Ironhide could answer Sideswipe was already heading down the hallway, not interested in anything else his superior had to say.  
   
  **~|~**  
  
Morning refuelling was a quiet affair the following day. The Autobots had received a call for help from the Air Force during the early morning hours; Starscream and his cronies wreaking havoc as usual but unfortunately despite Starscream being downed, the Decepticons got away with their coveted prize as an army of Drones aided their retreat.  
  
With the Drones now on Earth the Autobots needed all the mech-power they had so Sunstreaker and Tracks had been released from the brig for the call out. On returning to the Ark both had been allowed back to their quarters with strict instructions to stay away from one another and to report to Prowl, at separate times, after morning energon.  
  
In the rec room the twins sat quietly in the corner, intently watching the doorway each time a mech walked in, hope rising that it would be Ratchet only to be dashed when Mirage or Bluestreak, or Hound and so forth walked in instead.  
  
“Could be refuelling in the med bay.” Sunstreaker offered tiredly. Neither of the twins had recharged properly after the call out, both had simultaneously worried about the medic who had shut himself away while trying to process what Wheeljack had told Sideswipe about Ratchet’s feelings for them.  
  
Sideswipe scanned the room for what must have been the hundredth time since they had arrived, garnering the same results as the previous times. Ratchet was not there. “That doesn’t explain why he ignored Jack last night.” Sideswipe replied. “Us, yes, but Jack?”  
  
Armoured shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Maybe Jack fragged him off too. You know Ratch, it doesn’t take a lot to rankle him.”  
  
“But what about him not answering the warning claxon?" Sideswipe asked. "And haven’t you noticed that none of command is here to refuel. Something isn't right.”  
  
“Well yeah, that’s a bit odd but maybe they’re busy going over details of our call out.” Knocking back the last of his energon Sunstreaker rose from his seat. “Right, guess I best go and see what Prowl’s going to have me cleaning for the next forever.” Despite his coolness, Sunstreaker was just as worried about Ratchet as Sideswipe was but he knew he was on shaky ground right now, and to antagonise Prowl by not turning up for his meeting could risk him being locked in the brig again, and he couldn’t help Ratchet from there.  
  
Finishing his own energon Sideswipe stood alongside his brother. “Well I’m off to the med bay and if he’s not there then he sure as Pit had better answer the door to his quarters before it becomes acquainted with my shoulder.”  
  
Snorting and shaking his head, Sunstreaker walked away. He hoped for the door’s sake that Ratchet was in the med bay. He also hoped that their suspicions of him being missing were unfounded.  
   
  **~|~**  
   
“Come in.” Prowl’s voice met Sunstreaker’s audials as the door to his office slid open. With pale blue optics pinned on his data pad the officer sipped at his energon before asking Sunstreaker to sit down. “Take a seat Sunstreaker.”  
  
Settling in the seat positioned on the opposite side of the desk to where Prowl sat, Sunstreaker dutifully waited for the officer to finish whatever he was reading.  
  
“How are you this morning, Sunstreaker?”  
  
“Huh!?” The front liner had been engrossed in studying the tactician’s office. Sunstreaker had been called here many times and each time everything was exactly where he had last seen it. Nothing was ever out of place. Prowl’s fastidious nature often left him open to ridicule but Sunstreaker found it strangely calming. It was almost as though the uniformity in Prowl’s office meant that all was well, or as well as it could be during their war and the front liner believed that if he was ever to walk in here and find a chaotic mess, then that would be the time to panic.  
  
Ignoring Sunstreaker’s uncultured response Prowl repeated himself. “How are you this morning?”  
  
Cobalt optics narrowed on the officer. “Fine, I guess.”  
  
Prowl’s optics were on Sunstreaker’s face, studying him. “Before we start I just want to reiterate what I told Sideswipe yesterday. I understand that you may both be out of sorts over recent revelations and I will do whatever I can to be here for you. If you need to talk, then my door will always be open.” Sunstreaker stared at his superior and nodded his acknowledgement. “Just don’t let matters stew Sunstreaker. Whether you need to rant or just ask questions, please know I will be here for you both.” Having gotten that out of the way Prowl gave an awkward nod before settling back into his commander’s position. “Now, this incident between you and Tracks, I need you to assure me nothing like this will ever happen again.”  
  
Optics flickering as anger began to simmer and Sunstreaker turned his face away from the officer.  
  
“Sunstreaker.” Prowl brought the front liner’s attention back to him. “If you cannot promise me this then I will be left with no alternative but to incarcerate you for the foreseeable future.”  
  
“So Tracks attacks an officer….”  
  
“Let us not pretend that this is anything to do with an attack on an officer Sunstreaker, your reaction was on a completely personal level. I will take care of the ethics behind the attack made by Tracks, but you have to know that you cannot take such matters into your own hands, especially when personal emotions are involved.”  
  
Clenching his hands Sunstreaker bit his glossa. As far as he was concerned, what Tracks had done was out of order, regardless of whom the victim was. The warrior had no right to say who was or was not worthy of wearing the Autobot insignia. Yes, emotions where running extremely high within Sunstreaker, Tracks’ position not helped by who he had attacked, but he would have reacted the same way whomever had been attacked, wouldn’t he?  
  
Feeling the swirl of emotion in Sunstreaker’s energy field, Prowl allowed him a few moments to calm down before continuing. “Sunstreaker, I understand your reaction, I truly do, but surely you understand too that none of us can behave this way. Our numbers are stretched as it is and discord will not help our cause. We need to gel together as a team even more so now that we have Drones to contend with too.”  
  
The two held one another’s optics for a moment before Sunstreaker dropped his darkened optics to his lap.  
  
“Now can you assure me that we will not see a repeat of last night?”  
  
“And Tracks?”  
  
“He will be dealt with.”  
  
Being _dealt with_ Prowl’s way didn't really appease Sunstreaker’s sense of karma, but the last thing he wanted was to spend his between shift times holed up in the brig. Looking back up at Prowl the larger soldier nodded his helm once.  
  
Prowl had an idea of how difficult it would be for Sunstreaker to not avenge Ratchet but there were bigger issues at stake here than personal squabbles. “Thank you, Sunstreaker. Now, punishment.”  
  
“Isn’t leaving Tracks in one piece punishment enough?” Sunstreaker couldn't help himself. Not only was his loathing for the mech bubbling away inside of him, Sideswipe was demanding his attention. Ignoring both, Sunstreaker slouched under the officer’s pale stare.  
  
Venting with his own frustration Prowl lent back in his chair, dropping the unrelenting stance. “Sunstreaker, none of this is easy on anyone, including Tracks.” Sunstreaker snorted but left Prowl to continue. “I by no way condone his behaviour and I promise you he will be punished, but do you not think we should all be pulling together at a time like this?”  
  
Guilt forced Sunstreaker to look away again. Prowl had believed in the twins when they first came from the Pits and offered them support when no one else would even go near them, their new comrades having looked upon the twins in both awe and fear. They were renowned for their gladiatorial skills and it was difficult for anyone who had not been involved in that lifestyle to accept that that they were not just about to tear into them for the sake of it.  
  
But Prowl had persuaded Optimus to give the gladiators a place amongst the Autobots and over time, the Prime discreetly came to rely heavily on the twins and in return the twins gave the Prime their unwavering loyalty. Their behaviour out in battle alone was enough to earn them a reputation as well as keeping others at arm's length and only a select few ever truly knew what the pair did in secret in the name of the Autobots. Not that anyone in the know would ever admit that what they did was done for their Prime, but Prowl always ensured that over the passing millennia, the duo were stationed wherever Optimus Prime was, as well as covering any trails that led back to the actions of the twins.  
  
Yes, Prowl had done a lot for the pair, and granted it was all more than likely only ever to aid the Autobot cause but still, he gave the twins a place in the Autobot army, protecting them along the way and all they ever did was give him slag.  
  
Sunstreaker realised Prowl had been speaking. “What?” He snapped unintentionally.  
  
Raising an orbital ridge Prowl asked the question again. “Will you back off Tracks, for me?”  
  
Dark optics roved Prowl’s face, Sunstreaker’s mouth set in a firm line. It wasn't often Prowl asked either of them to do something for him. “Okay.” He finally replied. “I will walk away, _as always_ I add. _But_ …” The front liner’s face became steely. “If he so much as looks in Ratchet’s direction I won’t promise anything. Ratchet’s welfare is my priority, regardless of who he is…was, and I won’t allow him to be treated like dirt.”  
  
Prowl failed to repress a tiny flinch.  
  
“What was that?” Sunstreaker growled.  
  
“What?” Prowl asked.  
  
“That...flinch.”  
  
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Sunstreaker. Now Tracks will be here in a moment so let us finish this before he arrives.” Prowl busied himself with the data pad on his desk.  
   
“Don’t fob me off Prowl.” Sunstreaker was on his feet, clenched hands firmly planted on the officer’s desk. “What are you hiding?”  
  
“Sunstreaker!” Prowl warned, looking up at the mech.  
   
Anger flashed through the front liner’s optics. “Prowl!” Sunstreaker’s tone equally as warning.  
  
The pair held one another’s gaze for a few beats. Neither mech normally so willing to back down but on this occasion Prowl did. “Fine.” Sunstreaker was momentarily surprised when the tactician caved. “It is Ratchet.” Sunstreaker frowned. “He is missing.” The front liner's frown deepened.  
  
“What d’you mean _he’s missing?_ He can’t just be missing. Hide said he was prob’ly hiding out in his quarters.” Panic was beginning to fester but Sunstreaker wanted the facts before his usual brashness made itself known.  
  
“He hasn’t been seen since the incident with Tracks. Sideswipe was the last to see him and you were both right to question his absence in the control room during the call out, but we were so caught up with answering the call that none of us paid any attention to the fact.”  
  
“Not like you Prowl.” Sunstreaker snarked as he stood up straight, his glare never leaving the tactician. This time Prowl stifled a guilty flinch.  
  
“Now is not the time for…” Prowl paused as Sunstreaker turned his back on him and headed for the door, slamming his palm on the control panel. “Blame.” He finished lamely as the door whooshed open. Suddenly Sideswipe was barrelling into the office.  
  
“I told you.” He growled at Sunstreaker. “I was right to be worried. Now he’s been gone all night and could be anywhere. We need to get out there and look for him. Why are we still here? And Ironhide, I should deck the fragger for stopping me from smashing into Ratchet’s quarters last night.”  
  
Prowl assumed that Sunstreaker had called Sideswipe but he wondered how the other twin had gotten to his office so quickly. “I suggest you calm down, Sideswipe. You know we can’t just go out there gun ho. We need to execute a plan but before we can do that we need to know exactly how long he has been missing, and in what direction he left the Ark. Red Alert is currently working on this.”  
  
“Frag a plan.” Sunstreaker stalked back towards the desk. “The only plan should be to get out there and get Ratchet back. Frag knows what trouble he’s gotten himself into and now the Decepticons know who he is…” A strangled sound left Sideswipe, drawing two sets of optics towards him.  
  
“Sunny’s right.” Sideswipe wasn’t one to panic, his rash reactions to a situation never normally allowing time for panic to fester but right now the idea that the Decepticons could have their hands on the medic sent the fear of Unicron through him. “Or d’you think his place is back with the Decepticons and that’s why you’re so reluctant to get out there?”  
  
Anger and hurt flared within Prowl but he curbed its escape, his tone clipped and warning. “I have spent millennia protecting Ratchet, protecting all of you, and you dare to accuse me of thinking he belongs there instead of here.” Cold optics glared at Sideswipe. “If you honestly believe that then you clearly do not know me at all.”  
  
Sideswipe didn’t really believe for a moment that Prowl felt that way, but his fear of what had happened to Ratchet, could be happening left no room for reason.  
  
Sunstreaker voiced Sideswipe’s thoughts. “Then why are we still here? We should be out there!”  
  
Prowl stilled for a moment, optics a little unfocused before he addressed the pair again. “Red Alert has found the footage of Ratchet leaving the Ark. It seems he left via the emergency hatch at the end of the medical wing corridor.”  
  
“So how long’s he been gone?” Sideswipe questioned.  
  
Prowl looked at Sideswipe. “It seems that he left when you were visiting Sunstreaker in the brig.”  
  
Sideswipe swore profusely, his frame language indicating that he and Sunstreaker were conversing through their bond.  
  
_~I know I should’ve gone back but I hurt him, and he was so angry. He didn’t want me there.~_  
  
_~Since when d’you listen to what he wants?~_  
  
The cursing had stopped and Sideswipe hung his helm. “I know.” He replied out loud. “It’s my fault.”  
  
“Never said that.” Sunstreaker growled.  
  
“Don’t have to.” Cobalt optics remained downcast.  
  
Grabbing at Sideswipe’s arm and roughly pulling him close enough that their frames just about touched, Sunstreaker replied. “Not your fault.”  
  
“Sunstreaker is right.” Prowl cut in. “No one could have known he would jump ship but we should have all done a better job at keeping an optic on him. Now we cannot change what has happened but we can devise a plan to find him.” The twins gave identical cold glares, still not happy that they weren’t out there now, searching. “If we go out there without a strategy, where would we search? Which direction would we go in once we are outside of our sensor nets and cameras?”  
  
“We could trail his wheel tracks on the dirt road which leads from that side of the Ark.” Sideswipe offered weakly.  
  
Prowl felt for the twins, Sideswipe in particular. He didn’t know what had gone on for Sideswipe to blame himself for Ratchet’s leaving, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either, but he certainly didn’t think the young soldier was to blame. Ratchet clearly wasn't in a good place and if he was honest, they had all failed him. “The ground is too dry so I highly doubt there would be very much to go on.”  
  
The chime on Prowl’s door interrupted their conversation. “Tracks.” Prowl stated, the twins growling at the mention of his designation. “It is time for his meeting. You were supposed to have been gone from here by now Sunstreaker.” The gold twin coldly stared at the officer but Prowl just looked at him passively. “Just remember our conversation.”  
  
Furling his lip in annoyance, Sunstreaker said nothing in reply. Prowl had asked him to back off and he would at _least_ try, even if he believed that all bets were off now that Ratchet was missing. Stepping away from the door Sunstreaker pulled Sideswipe with him. Frowning at his twin, Sideswipe complied as the door opened and granted Tracks entrance.  
  
It was difficult not to notice the brightly coloured plating of the twins stood to the side and Tracks was already sneering before he looked at them. “Still here I see.” He drawled. “And with your brother here to hold your hand too. I don’t know why you stick with him Sidesw…”  
  
“Frag you Tracks!” Sideswipe snarled, cutting the mech off. “You’re not even worthy of licking his feet.”  
  
“Enough!” Prowl ordered and the room stilled as Prowl’s command echoed in their heads. “I will not tolerate you baiting like this, Tracks.” Tracks began to respond but Prowl’s cold tone cut him dead. “If you utter one more word I _will_ have you taken back to the brig.”  
  
“Bu…” With the stare Prowl gave him, the warrior realised he was as serious as always and Tracks closed his mouth.  
  
“We will have to reschedule, Tracks. Something has come up which requires my urgent attention.” Tracks remained silent.  
  
Whilst Prowl addressed the warrior, the twins became agitated. “Why are we wasting time on this degenerate when we should be out looking for Ratchet.” Sideswipe growled.  
  
Regardless of the fact that Prowl was speaking to him, Tracks turned his attention to the twins. “Wait, our _esteemed_ CMO is missing?”  
   
“What’s it to you?” Sunstreaker glared.   
  
“Well nothing, other than clearly I was right.” The smug warrior drawled.  
  
Sunstreaker snapped irritably. “Right about what?”   
   
“Isn’t it obvious to you knuckleheads? Our _deceptive_ medic has returned to _them_. He’s done what he was sent here to do and now he’s returned to where he belongs. And if you think for one moment that he was here for any other reason than to spy…”  
  
The angered growl which filled the room pulled the attention of three pairs of startled optics. “You will stop these accusations _now,_ Tracks!” Prowl’s optics blazed at the warrior. “Or just maybe I will leave this room, and you to the twins.”  
  
The twin front liners leered angrily at the warrior but with his usual sneer on his face, and very little regard for who he was speaking to, Tracks retorted, “It seems that we have too many Decepticon sympathisers amongst this crew, and I am beginning to think you are the worst of them Prowl.”  
  
Prowl’s anger vibrated through his energy field but his face remained blank. “I do not have time for this. Regardless of what you think, Ratchet is one of us and right now he needs our help.”  
  
“Pfft. You are going after him? Don’t you get it, any of you? It is all part of a plan. He has instilled himself so deeply within our ranks and when Megatron was ready for him to return home he revealed his identity, making such a show of it that the result of his revelation was just as effective as planting a bomb amongst us. And of course, we stupid, trusting Autobots…" Tracks echoed words used by Megatron. "He can’t _possibly_ be a Decepticon so we go running after him and into Megatron’s trap. These two, yes, I get why they would go after him, they are probably in on the whole thing but you Prowl, I thought better of you.”  
  
“Sounds to me like someone’s been spending too much time with ol’ Red.” Ironhide’s bulky frame filled the doorway.  
  
“Thanks for coming so quickly, Ironhide.” In anticipation of things kicking off, Prowl had commed Ironhide for his assistance. “Tracks will need escorting to the brig.”   
   
An incredulous look spread over the warrior’s red face plates.“Don’t think I don’t know what’s happening.” Tracks screeched. “You are all in on it!”  
  
“Think you’ve crossed a few wires, you fragwit.” Sideswipe commented. “Not even Red is _this_ paranoid.”  
  
“Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, can you meet me in the control room.” Not only did the situation require calming down, Prowl needed to have a little word with their paranoid warrior and it was a conversation the twins should not be privy to. “I will be there just as soon as Tracks and I have had a little conversation. Jazz and Optimus are already there and I have informed them that we are to include you in our meeting.” The twins gave their superior a grave nod.  
  
Making their way to the door, Sunstreaker _accidently_ bumped into Tracks and with lowered vocals he coldly intoned, “This is your fault, and  if there’s so much as a scuff on Ratchet’s plating when we find him I will strip you from the inside out.” Before the warrior had chance to respond, Sunstreaker was walking through the door.  
  
Just as Sideswipe was about to exit behind his brother, Ironhide rested a hand on the young mech’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He offered. “I should've taken more notice last night. I really thought Ratch would just be brooding over things.”  
  
Sideswipe looked at his commanding officer, his worry swamping the anger he felt towards Ironhide. “Let’s just find him.” He mumbled before he followed Sunstreaker into the corridor.  
  
Once the twins were outside Prowl commanded the door to close, cutting them off from his office while he turned to Tracks. “Now Tracks, I think you are stretching this paranoia act a little too thin.”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped, his optics shifting away from Prowl’s face.  
  
Prowl raised an optic ridge. “Do you not think that you are the last mech who should be shouting Decepticon from the roof of the Ark?” Tracks fully turned his head away.  
  
“Look at your superior when he’s speaking to you.” Ironhide commanded.  
  
Only when Tracks looked back at Prowl did the tactician continue. “You accuse me of harbouring Decepticons, correction, mechs you _accuse_ of being Decepticons, but you seem to forget your own position.” Optics flickered at Prowl’s words. “Do you think that accusing Ratchet, and the twins, of being spies is some sort of way of proving you are an Autobot?”  
  
“I am an Autobot.” The warrior ground out.  
  
“And I did not imply anything to the contrary.” Prowl coolly replied. “But I think you need to rethink whatever it is that you are doing because soon others will start questioning your motives.”  
  
“I am not doing anything.” Tracks retorted. “I am just saying what others are too afraid to say, out loud. Sure they all discuss it amongst themselves but none of them would have the gall to say it to those who masquerade as Autobots.”  
  
Prowl supressed his frustration. The same conversations were being recycled and every time he thought the crew had come to accept the situation, something would happen to set the whole cycle back off again. “Okay, so say you are right, and there are Decepticons here masquerading as Autobots, do you include yourself in that group?”  
  
“Of course not.” The terse response came. “And how dare you suggest that I should do.”  
  
“Then explain to me, if you care, why your situation is any different to Ratchet’s.”  
  
Silence draped heavily in the room whilst Prowl and Tracks stared at one another, Ironhide standing statuesque behind the warrior, arms crossed over his chest waiting in anticipation for his reply.  
  
“Because I never was a Decepticon.” Tracks eventually answered.  
  
“And neither were the twins,” Prowl replied. “But that does not seem to stop you from throwing accusations their way.”  
  
“They fought in the rings, rings that were owned by well known Decepticons.”  
  
“The rings were owned by mechs who _became_ Decepticons, _after_ we closed down their rings.” The officer corrected.  
  
“Smoke and mirrors.” Tracks replied. “But Torque _was…is_ a Decepticon.”  
  
“His designation is Ratchet.” Ironhide grumbled.  
  
“Semantics.” Tracks intoned glibly. “Fact is, _he_ wore their insignia and _he_ was involved in their attacks on our planet, whatever _his_ designation.”  
  
Ordinarily Prowl wouldn't allow a mech get under his plating but Tracks was doing a pretty good job of doing so. However, now was not the time to lose his composure and he calmly replied. “You really need to get your facts in order Tracks before you start throwing around accusations.” Tracks tried to cut Prowl off, he was really beginning to move into the realms of insubordinate behaviour, but the tactician simply cocked an optic brow in his customary manner and the warrior fell silent.  
  
“We have already been through this but clearly you need me to refresh your memory. The only _emblem_ Ratchet wore before coming to us was a medic’s cross, and yes, he played his part in our war, as we all have in one way or another, but as Optimus has already explained, during Ratchet’s time with Shockwave he was led to believe he was working to help those less fortunate, just as Megatron had promised.”  
  
“Pfft. So he says.” Came Tracks’ retort. “Cities fell because of those Drones, Drones he created.”  
  
Frustration was really beginning to bubble within the tactician but still Prowl remained patient. “Tracks, this hatred you seem to be harbouring is not healthy for you, or those around you.”  
  
Condescension rolled off the warrior in waves. “Neither is harbouring a Decepticon healthy for us.”  
  
“ _Former_ Decepticon.”  
  
“Mere words Prowl. Once a Decepticon, always a Decepticon. Nobody can change that much.” The warrior sneered. “And no Autobot life should be put in danger for _their_ protection.”  
  
“And does that go for all Decepticons?” Prowl asked. “That no Decepticon should be offered protection, no matter the circumstances.”  
  
“No exceptions.” Tracks stated as a matter of fact.  
  
The pale blue optics of the tactician pierced the angry ones of the younger mech. Prowl should be in the command centre co-ordinating the search for their medic but he wanted to see an end to this notion that Ratchet was a spy, and he needed Tracks to realise that while his personal circumstances were vastly different, he was not so different to Ratchet. “I will ask you again Tracks, why is _your_ situation is any different to Ratchet’s?”  
  
Shifting uncomfortably, Tracks remained silent until Ironhide prodded at him with his elbow. “Answer the mech!” He demanded.  
  
Having forgotten that the larger mech was behind him, Tracks startled. “It just is.” He snapped over his shoulder.  
  
“What kind of answer’s that?” Ironhide prodded again.  
  
Tracks looked back at Prowl. “Because _I_ was a youngling when I was passed off to the Prime.”  
  
Prowl waited for the Autobot to elaborate but Tracks left it at that. “Sent to us by your creator so that we could protect you.”  
  
“Yesss.” Came the hissed response. “As if I need to tell you the story.” Tracks never discussed his past, and as far as everyone knew, the story went that he came from a wealthy background and that he was rescued by Autobots after an attack on his city left him without his creators. No one questioned the story; it was one that had been heard in countless cities throughout Cybertron.  
  
“No,” Prowl replied. “You do not need to tell me the story but I think you need to remind yourself of it, of your origins.”  
  
Tracks shifted uncomfortably again, shame bubbling within. He despised his heritage, not that it had been his fault. None of them had a choice in where they came from. He had been sparked just before the war escalated and his creator clearly didn’t want him. He had spent far longer being raised by the Prime and his Autobots than his own creator, so much so that his creator became nothing but a blur in memory files he had forgotten were there. It was only when he was ready for his final frame upgrade did he discover exactly who his creator was and what he thought was his life, crumbled around him. It was at that moment his intrinsic hate for their foe was born and he vowed that no one else would ever discover his true history.  
  
He remembered begging Ratchet on the cycle of his upgrade to change his colour scheme, and Ratchet had, but the vanity which had already begun to become evident in the younger mech resulted in him rejecting every colour scheme the medic prob rammed, until all that was left was the one his protoform had automatically defaulted to when his spark had first been planted into its chamber, and Tracks had finally settled on the configuration he was known for.  
  
Thinking back, Tracks had to marvel at how good a spy the medic was; not even knowing who Tracks’ creator was led him to break cover.  
  
“Tracks.” Prowl encouraged, pulling the soldier from his thoughts.  
  
“Fine!” He snapped angrily. “You want me to say it out loud? Then I will. _I_ was sparked by a Decepticon. I _am_ Starscream’s creation. _BUT_ …I have never been nor ever will be a Decepticon. I came here as a youngling because, and I quote you and Prime,” he spat. “Because _he_ apparently feared for my life, feared that Megatron would kill me just to get at him. Apparently my murdering, traitorous creator gave me up to save me. ” The last of his words were coated in his contempt.  
  
Nodding his helm Prowl waited for Tracks to continue.  
  
“Of course I only have your word, yours and Prime’s on that, and quite frankly after recent revelations I am not quite sure I would believe anything either of you have to say again. So why is my situation different to Ratchet’s you ask? Well I will tell you why. He _chose_ to become a Decepticon. He _chose_ to help create the Drones which destroyed our cities, our planet, whereas I had the misfortune to be sparked to one of those monsters we fight against, and that is my only connection to them.” Anger and hatred rolled off the younger Autobot in waves, but Prowl refused to allow himself to feel guilty for evoking such feelings. Tracks had to understand that he, like Ratchet, relied on the Autobots to protect him and keep him out of the Decepticons clutches.  
  
“But had Starscream not come to our Prime, asking, begging that we take care of you because he feared that he could no longer keep you hidden, not after his rise to Second in Command, then it is highly probable that you would have followed in your creators footsteps. Instead he gave you what he felt was the better start…”  
  
“Yesss.” Tracks cut in. “I _know_ the story.”  
  
“Then I suggest you take time to think about it. If the others were to know of your past how would you feel if they accused you of being a spy? Starscream’s progeny being raised by the Prime seems quite incredulous really, if one were to be paranoid about it. And maybe when you calm down you will see that you and Ratchet are really not so different.” A snort of contempt left the warrior as he dropped his optics to the ground. “Ironhide, will you do the honours please.”  
  
Nodding, Ironhide placed a servo at Tracks’ elbow and encouraged him to leave the office. “C’mon Tracks, you can lead the way.” Giving one last glare at Prowl, Tracks allowed the weapons specialist to escort him back to the brig.  
  
Finally releasing his frustration through a vent of air Prowl followed the two out of his office and headed for the control room.  
   
  **~|~**  
 

After the door had cycled shut behind the twins Sideswipe grabbed hold of Sunstreaker’s arm, raising a finger to his lips, asking him to be silent. Resisting the urge to growl, Sunstreaker watched his brother with a frown as Sideswipe reached into his sub-space pocket and pulled out a small device.  
  
_~One of Jacks prototypes. Allows us to listen through solid masses.~_ He placed the small device on the door, the small sonus as the magnetic back clung to the metal skin of the door sounding far too loud in the quiet corridor. The pair tensed for a moment and prepared to run should the door suddenly slide open; they were experts at getting out of sticky situations unseen.  
  
When the door remained shut Sideswipe placed something against his audial and after passing an identical piece to Sunstreaker, he flicked a small switch on the rear of the device he had placed on the door. The high pitched feedback was painful but the twins remained still, both clenching their jaws until the pain and sound tapered out. Sideswipe shrugged. _~I didn’t say it was one of the viable prototypes.~_  
  
Sunstreaker gave his twin a dirty look. _~Idiot!~_

Sideswipe however was now intently listening to the conversation on the other side of the door and he suggested Sunstreaker do the same. The transmission was muffled, again another failure of this particular prototype, but they could understand what was being said.  
  
Throughout the conversation they listened into, they shared a series of incredulous looks as they realised what was being said.  
  
_~Starscream!~_ They both silently exclaimed to one another.  
  
_~Explains a lot.~_ Sideswipe offered as he was struck with the growing anger bleeding through from Sunstreaker. _~Wonder who the co-creator is?~_  
  
Too lost in his ire, Sunstreaker ignored Sideswipe’s comment. _~He dares to accuse Ratchet of being a stinking Decepticon and he was created by one!~_ Sideswipe winced as Sunstreaker’s tone almost reached screaming point through the bond. _~The two faced, narcissist creation of a back stabbing fragwit!~_  
  
Sideswipe turned to his twin, optics cold and full of promise, his own anger tempered down and locked away, ready to use on another day. _~Oh don’t worry Sunny, he won’t get away with this. We’ve more important things to worry about right now but when the time’s right we’ll pull our dear little Tracks up on his secret, and when we’ve finished with him we’ll make sure he has nowhere to run but back to those he belongs with.~_ Detaching the listening device from both his audial and the door, Sideswipe motioned to his brother to move quickly. _~They’re coming.~_  
   
  **~|~**  
   
When Tracks stepped from Prowl’s office and into the corridor he was completely oblivious to the fact that his secret had been revealed. The twins, having stealth, speed and millennia’s of silent getaways on their side had left without a trace, and the warrior led a wordless route to the brig to think about things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Tracks eh! Creation of a Deception. I'm sure the Lambros will not let that little nugget of information go to waste. Thanks need to go to SunnySidesofBlue who gave me the idea for Tracks' secret, it is far more a dramatic one than the idea I came up with. 
> 
> Also I haven't forgotten about Ratchet, he will be back (to the story, not the Ark) in the next chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst the Autobots search for their medic back on Earth, Ratchet is several light years away. How is he doing and what are Shockwaves plans for him? And are we about to say goodbye to the Ratchet we all know and love?

**Earth…**

“This is ridiculous! He can’t have just _vanished!_ ” Sideswipe stormed angrily through the Ark. “And…” the ruby mech span around on his toeplate, bringing his comrades behind him to an abrupt halt. “I’m not finished searching so I’m going back… _Ouch!_ The Frag?!”

Ironhide caught hold of one of Sideswipe’s horns, the only way he was going to shut the front liner up right now. “You’ve been out there too long without rest, you need to refuel and recharge else you're no help to mech or beast.” Angry optics glowered up at the burly Autobot.

“I’m not recharging 'til we’ve found him! And for all we know he’s not getting any energon so why the frag should we?” Ironhide released the younger Autobot, leaving Sideswipe rubbing at his sore horn, optics still angry. “I’m going back out there!”

It took Sunstreaker shoving through the group to grab his twin and drag him away to break up the brewing fight. “Hide’s right Swipe. Look at us! We’re filthy, low on energon and exhausted, we can’t help Ratchet like this.”

Pulling out of Sunstreaker’s grasp, Sideswipe turned on his brother. “Ratchet’s missing and all you’re worried about is being dirty!”

“I couldn’t give a frag about being dirty, you glitch!" Sunstreaker growled. "But I know without decent recharge we’re about a helpful as a bag of spanners out there. Besides, how d’you think Ratchet’ll feel if he knows you shut down _because_ of him?”

Dark optics flickering back at Sunstreaker, Sideswipe swayed on the spot. “But what if he can’t _feel_ anything, what if he’s dea…” A strangled sound left Sideswipe’s throat. “Sunny, we’re not gonna find him are we?” Sunstreaker caught Sideswipe before he crashed to the floor, optics fading as his overstressed and underfuelled systems succumbed to forced recharge. Not feeling much better himself, Sunstreaker scooped his twin up, only pausing long enough to glare at their audience before taking Sideswipe to their quarters. He couldn’t help but feel relieved at not having to answer his brother’s question, not when he was beginning to believe that they would never find Ratchet.

Arriving at their quarters and laying Sideswipe on the berth, Sunstreaker looked down at his own filthy frame. Sideswipe was right. What did it matter what state their armour was in? A shower could wait as nothing else mattered, only finding Ratchet, but for now he needed recharge just as much as his twin did. Climbing next to Sideswipe and curling around him, Sideswipe automatically settled into Sunstreaker's embrace whilst Sunstreaker instantly slipped into recharge, reflux images seeping through from Sideswipe’s side of their bond and flitting through his processor.

**~|~**

**Cybertron…**

“And I've told you, Torque is _dead_.” Ratchet ground out between gritted denta as he glared at Shockwave from the table he was still strapped to, a single red optic studying him.

Considering the position Ratchet was in it almost amused Shockwave to see his defiance.

Almost.

“And now he is resurrected.” Came the matter of fact response. “You do however have a choice. You either revert back to your original status or I will find another use for your frame.”

Ratchet continued to glare unwaveringly at the scientist he had long assumed was dead. “Either way I’m dead.” The medic's tone just as flat as Shockwave's.

Confusion clouded Shockwave’s processor. “Explain.”

“Force me to become Torque again, then Ratchet is gone, _I_ am dead. Turn me into a drone and I am dead anyway, so why don’t you just do whatever it is you have planned for me and get it over and done with.” Ratchet was too exhausted for fear to even register.

“Planned?” The scientist questioned. “I have not factored your unexpected arrival into any plans. Your presence however could not have been timed better.” The large Decepticon turned his back on the Autobot and tapped at the console, a series of formulas appearing on the large wall screen. “As you have witnessed, I have been rebuilding an army of Drones but unfortunately with certain chemical compounds no longer available here on Cybertron, I have had to adapt chemicals from Earth. The results fared better than expected but there is something not quite right. The Drones have a weakness.” A few more taps and all but one of the formulas disappeared from the screen. “One of which I am not foolish enough to share with you until I have your loyalty, but there is an error in the compound mix at this point which I have been unable to decipher.” Shockwave turned back to his audience of one. “And now that you have returned to where you belong, we can correct the error and fully resurrect our unstoppable army.”

Now the fear that had been masked by fatigue roiled in Ratchet’s tank. He couldn't do this again. Ratchet couldn't condem what was left of his race to this horror. “And if I say no?”

One of the neighbouring screens flickered into life when Shockwave turned away, images that had been taken from Ratchet’s memories playing out before him; a few moments of playback before the image would segue into another cycle, another memory.

“I do think these two would make such powerful Drones, don’t you? They are natural killers, it is in their very coding.” Shockwave remained with his back to the Autobot as he too watched the playback. “But maybe I would keep a little of their own consciousness alive, just enough that they will know who they once were whilst knowing they are powerless to do anything but follow my orders.”

“You twisted fragger!” Ratchet tugged at his shackles, trying desperately to break free.

Turning to face his prisoner, Shockwave waited until Ratchet’s struggle against his restraints died down. “It seems that you have forgotten your manners since becoming an Autobot. Now, _Torque_ , would I be correct in thinking that you would do anything to protect those two, even if you would lead them to believe otherwise.” Shockwave referred to previously seen memories, of Ratchet verbally pushing the twins away.

“You’ll never get near them!” Ratchet hissed. “You’ve seen them in action, they’ll kill whoever you send for them.”

“You clearly underestimate me. I do not require brute force to get to them, not when I have you.” Now he had Ratchet’s attention. “You will bring them here.”

 _“Never!”_ Ratchet’s struggle started anew. He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he left the Ark. He thought it would be better for the others if he left; better for the twins, but it seemed that his rash decision was only going to further endanger them.

“But I will not need your compliance in baiting them. I only need to imply that you are being held in exchange of something I need and that the deal will only be brokered if the twins make the delivery, you need not lift a finger.” Shockwave resumed his watching of the screen again. “You only have to agree to my requirements, all of them, and I will leave them alone, Torque.”

Ratchet was beginning to tire now. He hadn’t refuelled since before leaving the Ark and his struggle was beginning to burn through his reserves. “I doubt they’d waste their time on me.” He replied weakly, turning his helm away from the footage. _Not after the way I treated them_ he continued to himself.

Glancing over his shoulder, the large Decepticon noted the look of loss on his companion's face. “I have no time for the sentiment of _love_ ,” the sound of the word alien to Shockwave. “But I believe that they will come for you. Your compliance is all that I need to stop this from happening.”

Blue optics fixed on the one way windows decorating one side of the lab, the rooms beyond the glass apertures housing mechs in various stages of the transformation process from coherent sentient life form to Drone, while an internal war was being fought between his mind and spark. Ratchet knew deep down he couldn’t go back to who he once was, the passive medic who had followed Shockwave’s orders once before and to the detriment of his planet, but neither could he risk the lives of the twins.

For many stellar-cycles following his defect to the Autobots, Ratchet prayed for atonement for the decisions he had made, regretting that he had not sacrificed his own life in the name of sparing Cybertron from the destruction born by those Drones. Yet here he was, several millennia later, choosing to save the few instead of sacrificing for the many.

But this was Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They had spent their entire lives fighting for freedom and he couldn’t take the potential of that away from them. Yes there was a chance they wouldn't survive the war, to have survived this long must have been by some divine intervention, but if they ended up as part of Shockwave’s army then they would never be free, they would be as good as dead, no matter how long they survived.

“Fine.” He whispered, his answer barely audible as he shuttered his optics, shutting out the scenes behind the mirrored glass.

“Wise choice." Came the scientist's response, but Ratchet barely registered the words as he felt a part of himself die.

**~|~**

Ratchet sat in the clinical room alone. He had asked for privacy and to his surprise Shockwave had granted him that, although not entirely. Resigned optics stared up at the camera watching him, any defiance that once burned through the medic now replaced with impending doom; he had made his choice and now he had to fulfil his end of the bargain.

Optics dropped from the taunting green light blinking silently at him and he reached out for the first of the energon cubes. With his reserves almost empty he needed to refuel before he could take a step back in time and taking sips, trying not to choke on the fluid, Ratchet's mind was suddenly filled with memories of another time long ago, a time when he was about to do the same thing.

_“The mech was killed a few orns ago when the outpost he was stationed at was wiped out. He was a medic making him the ideal candidate and as the entire camp was killed, there is no one to testify to his deactivation, plus I have not yet logged his deactivation details.”_

_Jazz raised an optic ridge. “Not like you to not follow your own procedures, Prowl.”_

_Prowl ignored his comrade’s comment while handing Torque a data pad before asking, “do you understand all that I have told you?” He studied the medic’s face, awaiting his response. “Torque?”_

_The blue and white mech finally nodded. “I do.”_

_“And you know that this is the only way to keep you safe?”_

_“Safe.” Torque snorted. “I don’t deserve to be kept safe.”_

_Wheeljack made to step towards his friend but was stopped by the Prime. “Everyone deserves to be safe, Torque, and to be given the chance to make amends. We cannot turn back time but we can try to put a stop to what has been started.”_

_Looking up at the large mech, Torque failed to find the words to convey his appreciation. He had helped Megatron destroy the planet with a mindless, unstoppable army, one which had fought against Optimus and slain many of his Autobots along with any neutrals who had gotten in the way, yet there was not a hint of hatred or blame towards him from the Prime._

_“And Pharma is in much need of experienced help. Too many medics were unable to finish their training and most fail to cope with the trauma of the injuries and deactivation they see cycle after cycle.” Sadness clouded blue optics, sadness tinged with Optimus’ pain at failing to keep his troops alive._

_Sensing the Autobot commander needed a moment to compose himself, Jazz stepped in. “Prime’s right. Everyone deserves a second chance and this is yours Torque, and at the same time we get the much needed help we require. So if it helps, see it as doing us a favour.”_

_Pale blue optics moved from one mech to another before finally landing back on Prowl. “Okay, but I only want Wheeljack here for this.”_

_Regarding the former Decepticon, Prowl finally gave his agreement and silently ushered the rest of command out of the room. “Comm me when it is done, Wheeljack.”_

_Alone, Torque and Wheeljack watched one another._

_“You are quiet, Jack.” The medic flinched at how tense his voice sounded._

_“It’s your decision so it doesn’t matter what the rest of us say.” Wheeljack explained._

_“You’re my oldest friend, my only friend Jack, your opinion matters to me.” Torque looked at the data pad in his servo. “Is giving up who I am the right thing to do?”_

_Wheeljack was glad he wasn’t the one making the decision, and doubted he could do so easily, but he was feeling selfish now that his friend was away from the Decepticons and he wanted to keep him safe. “You’ll still be you inside Torque, that’ll never change.”_

_Torque snorted. “So I’ll always be a Decepticon despite my outer appearance.” He looked up from the data pad. “Because that is who I am, a murdering Decepticon, and I don’t deserve to be protected. I should be locked up, a prisoner of war, not being offered the ID of a deceased Autobot, sullying his designation…” _

_“ Torque!” It was rare that Wheeljack raised his vocals unless he was excited about something, so his tone caught the medic’s attention. “You need to stop doing this…this self-depreciation and hatred. Yes, you helped build those Drones.” Torque winced at the words. “But that isn’t who you are! You're not Shockwave or Megatron, you had no intention of hurting anyone else when you joined them. You were used for what you could offer and now you have the chance to make up for that. So I’m telling you, as your best friend, take this chance and become the medic you always wanted be. Help keep our troops alive and at the same time I get to have my friend back. And I don’t care what you look like or what your designation is, as long as you’re alive.” _

_Wheeljack’s fins flashed a reddish tinge, embarrassed by his impromptu speech._

_“Thank you.” Came Torque’s subdued reply._

_“For what?” Wheeljack was perplexed._

_“For being you, for being honest as always. I was too stubborn to listen to you before, but, look Jack, just do this before I change my mind.”_

_Wheeljack couldn’t help but pull his friend into an embrace, only holding him for a brief moment before letting go and stepping back to take the data pad from Torque. “Just need to download ID and design codes and you’re good to go.” Torque gave a silent nod. If he was going to change his mind he had to do it now._

_But as Wheeljack plugged the other end of the data transfer cable into the back of Torque’s neck, the medic only said, “Tell me about him, Jack”_

_Several glyphs were tapped into the pad whilst Wheeljack responded absentmindedly. “Who?”_

_“This mech, this Ratchet.” Torque found he didn’t mind the sound of the designation._

_“He was a field medic, created around the same time as you, studied in Protihex. He remained neutral when the war first broke out, tending to those injured in the crossfire but as the war escalated and neutrals left the planet he chose to stay and join the war. He spent his time as an Autobot at various remote outposts where supplies and medical facilities were sparse, if not non-existent, and he learned to work with what was at hand.” Wheeljack paused. “He worked tirelessly yet no one really knows who he is…was.”_

_The pair fell momentarily silent._

_“So I become him.” Torque took back the data pad to study the deactivated medic’s image again._

_“Well, you take his designation, ID and design. You will carry some pertinent memories because it would be a miracle if you were to never come across someone from his past.” Torque’s optics flickered as he focused on the face looking back up at him from the pad. “But you will still be you. Your thoughts, your feelings.”_

_Ratchet, Torque noted, had similar features to him and his frame size was near as dammit the same size too. It was true that most medics looked comparable frame wise as they all tended to use an ambulatory vehicle mode, the differences indicating which design they used, and all bore a medics crest of some sort aloft their helm._

_“Ready?” Wheeljack broke through Torque’s thoughts._

_Honestly, he wasn’t ready. He was about to take on the guise of another and for all intents and purposes, he was about to walk away from the part he played in the building of the drones; he was getting away with murder. His response however, relayed the opposite of how he felt. “Ready.”_

_Wordlessly, Wheeljack took the data pad back to give it one final command and within nano-seconds of the medic dropping his firewalls, the data began to stream._

_Torque flinched as the first wave of codes entered his system, his HUD scrolling the information before filing it ready for later use. The whole procedure was over in moments, the data pad emitting a small notification tone on completion and the pair just stared at the pad, as though expecting it to do something._

_“Okay.” Wheeljack’s voice startled Torque. “The rest is down to you.” The data chord was pulled out from Torque's neco port before Wheeljack moved to give the medic space._

_Drawing a deep draught of air into his systems and closing vents to retain it, Torque initiated the newly downloaded programmes._

_On command, frame colours and form began to morph, plates shifting and resizing to accommodate the new design, colours bleeding from one to another. It was a painless experience but it was not one that a bot chose to do regularly, and just like with the data transfer, the transformation was over in moments._

_Wheeljack silently watched on as his friend became someone else and he had to remind himself of the words he had spoken to Torque; that regardless of his outer appearance, he would still be himself, he was still Torque._

_“Ratchet?” Wheeljack made sure to use the new designation. They couldn’t afford to slip up on this, not if they wanted to keep the medic safe. At first there was no response. “How do you feel, Ratchet?”_

_Ratchet ran a diagnostics on his frame, everything appearing to be in order. “Programmes are complete.”_

_Wheeljack’s optics ran over the medic’s frame, taking in the changes. “But how do you feel?” He asked again. _

_Feel? Ratchet wasn’t sure, not really. He felt like he always had, although he did detect subtle differences in his frame. “What do you want me to say?” _

_Not sure himself Wheeljack shrugged and changed the subject. “If you’re ready I’ll call Prowl back in.”_

_Ratchet nodded, then exclaimed, “No, wait! I want to see myself before the others do, prepare myself for their reaction.” He purposely didn’t ask Wheeljack what he looked like, not wanting to put his friend on the spot and risk proving that it did matter what he looked like to the engineer._

_Moving to the console in the corner of the room they were in, Wheeljack activated the camera feed in the room, displaying several feeds from different angles on the monitor for the medic to see._

__Walking up to the monitor, p_ ale blue optics darted over the various images before finally landing on one and Ratchet zoomed in the selected image, filling the screen with his new form. It was a little disorientating at first, his processor not registering that he was looking at himself but when he moved an arm and flexed his now bright red hand, shock flooded his spark. He had never thought about his colour scheme before but the various hues of blue accenting his white frame had been a familiar sight. _

_Now suddenly he took notice of himself. Ratchet donned a whole lot more white plating than colour with accents bright and much more in your face. His hands and pelvic plating were matching red, loud and brash, the same red on his shoulders causing his medical symbols to stand out all the more. The small crest which had adorned his helm was now elongated, the now heavier appendage something he would get used to in time, slate grey replacing the darkest of the blues of his original colour scheme._

_Ratchet flexed his hand again, watching his reverse image on the screen do the exact same thing, confirming that the mech that he was looking at was indeed him._

_Staring at himself and taking in all the detail he could see of his new frame, Ratchet was oblivious to Prowl’s entrance into the room, Wheeljack having finally informed his fellow commander that the change had been made. There were a few more details that Prowl needed to go through before Ratchet could finally meet the team he would be working with and begin his life as an Autobot._

Lost in his memories, Ratchet lifted the energon to his mouth again but his lips were met with the final droplets, all energon consumed, and now that his levels where high enough for a transformation of this manner there was nothing to delay the inevitable.

Standing in the middle of a room which housed nothing more than a med berth, that had no doubt been used in some experiment, and various machines waiting to be powered up, Ratchet focused his attention on the wall ahead of him as he dug deep into his files, looking for a programme he thought he would never use again and shuttering his optics, Ratchet initiated the old coding and just as before, within nano-seconds his transformation began. Lines of code scrolled through his HUD but unable to watch as each one was executed, the medic shut down his feed while plating mutated in shape and colour scheme once more.

White plating transmuted into pale blue, a few white plates remaining as they were while his signature bright red to his hands, hips and shoulders bled into a pale shade of blue, one which matched his optics. The renowned chevron to his helm shrank in size until a smaller, dark blue crest adorned his now pale blue helm but facial features remained the same, the slight alteration in the shape of his helm enough to give a subtle difference.

And just like that it was over.

Just like that Torque stood in the middle of the sterile room and Ratchet had gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the time of posting (2nd Nov 14) this chapter brings the everything up to date with my Livejournal posts. Chapter 10 was originally posted to LJ back in July and chapter 11 remains a blank slate. I have future chapters written but currently there is a gaping hole between them and this chapter. By reworking these ten chapters to post here I am hoping to have refuelled my muse for this story and will try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and Wheeljack persuade a fellow Autobot to go on an unofficial rescue mission.

“You have a screw loose, all of you!” Regal optics looked at each mech in turn; Wheeljack, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, all looking back at Mirage in earnest. “What am I on about, of course you all have a screw loose.”

“We wouldn’t ask if we weren’t desperate.” Wheeljack replied, the desperation he spoke of evident in his voice. “We can’t just abandon him.”

“Command will never sign off on it. It is too dangerous otherwise do you not think we would have explored this avenue already?” Mirage turned to leave.

“Wheeljack is part of command.” Sideswipe countered. “So think of it as, well, taking an order.”

Cool blue optics slid to the front liner. “I report to Jazz, not Wheeljack.”

“I’m not asking as an officer,” Wheeljack quickly spoke up. “But as a comrade, and for Ratchet.”

Mirage glanced at all three mechs again. “We do not know Ratchet is even wherever that bridge leads to, I would be going in blind. No, I will not do it.”

Sunstreaker snarled at the former noble. “How quickly mechs forget what Ratchet has done for them.”

Cold optics shot to Sunstreaker in a withering glare, Sunstreaker’s returning stare equally as icy. “I have forgotten nothing, Sunstreaker.”

“Thought you’d gotten over this _Ratchet must still be a Con_ thing.” Sideswipe cut in before things could get heated between his brother and the spy.

Mirage’s gaze shifted back to the red twin. “I have never suggested such a thing, Sideswipe. I merely pointed out that at the time Ratchet _was_ a Decepticon, Prime had decided that it was better to protect him than the Autobots _from_ him.”

“You weren’t even an Autobot when Prime took Ratchet in, you were still living in your _ivory tower!”_ Sunstreaker snarled again, pulling Mirage’s attention back to him. “So who are you to comment on what happened back then?”

 _“MECHS!”_ Wheeljack cut in forcefully. “It doesn’t matter who was who and where at the time, we just need to bring Ratchet home before it’s too late.” Helm fins flashed erratically on the sides of Wheeljack’s head. “Mirage, I’m begging you, please, you’re his only hope.”

“If not for us,” Sideswipe added. “Then for Ratchet. He’s tough, yes, but he can’t hold up against the Deceptiscum forever.”

Feeling the desperation in the room Mirage looked at each mech in turn again. They were right, Ratchet was tough but he was no warrior. The spy also couldn’t forget that Ratchet was the reason that any of them were still here today. “Do you even have a plan because I cannot just walk up to the space bridge and walk through.”

Sideswipe couldn’t help the small smile of gratitude. “Kinda.”

An optic ridge cocked. _“Kinda.”_ The cultured tone mimicked.

“We know even cloaked you can’t just activate the bridge and walk through.” Wheeljack took over from Sideswipe. “The bridge activation will give you away, so the only thing you can do is…”

“Wait until they open the bridge themselves.” Sideswipe finished eagerly.

“And we of course know when that will be.” Despite already knowing the answer the noble had to ask.

“Well,” Sideswipe rubbed the back of his neck.

“No!” Sunstreaker replied plainly.

“And do I have a choice?”

“No!” The twins returned in unison.

Stepping between the twins and Mirage, Wheeljack replied, “You do have a choice Mirage. Despite how much I, we may plead with you, the choice is still yours.”

Silence falling over them, Wheeljack and the twins waited for the spy’s response, desperate for him to say yes; but if Mirage said no then, well, Mirage just had to say yes!

**~|~**

Two Earth days had passed since Mirage left the Ark, the spy sitting and waiting, his invisible form watching the Decepticon Drones guarding the space bridge scurry about their duties. There had been a close call when he thought a Drone had detected him, the seemingly not so mindless bot looking over his shoulder several times and straight at Mirage, sensing something was there, the cloaking device only distorting Mirage’s energy field, not completely dampening it. Mirage calculated that he had about a day, day and a half maximum before his energon supply was depleted as his disrupter, never meant for long term activation, absorbed most of what he consumed. As it turned out, Mirage wouldn’t have to wait too much longer.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

For two days he had only the Drones for company but the arrival of the Constructicons with large stash of energon loaded on the back of Long Haul, indicated a trip to Cybertron was imminent. As the Decepticon gestalt busied themselves, Scrapper ordering both his gestalt and the Drones about and enjoying his additional authority, Mirage patiently watched, waiting for the moment when he would finally step onto Cybertron again. 

Mirage would be lying if he wasn’t a little bit thrilled about returning home. It was all he had wanted since waking on Earth and he seemed to yearn to return more than any other bot aboard the Ark, and whilst he had been sitting and waiting, he allowed himself to think about the possibility of not cowing back to Earth, musing how easy it would be for him to slip away, never to be found again. Of course he has to get past whatever or whoever was on the other side of that space bridge, but that should be easy enough in his current state. Mirage even formulated a plan to liberate the Decepticons of some of their energon, but then he would remember why he was here.

Carefully releasing the air he was holding the noble turned spy crept out from his space and moved closer to the bridge. With the Constructicons around he would need to be extra vigilant so as not to alert them to his hidden presence, his optics pinned on their movements until eventually Mirage’s wait was over, Scrapper instructing Long Haul to move to the space bridge ramp and ordering the Drone at the console to power up the bridge.

“Connection with Cybertron established.” The bridge operator blandly informed the gestalt leader as a bright flash of light filled the cave.

“Okay Constructicons, move out.” Scrapper waited at the end of the ramp whilst Hook and Scavenger escorted Long Haul through the bridge, Bone Crusher and Mixmaster following their team mates before Scrapper brought up the rear. 

Timing it so that he was only a step behind Scrapper, Mirage stepped into the realm of transwarp space, leaving Earth behind him.

~|~

The trip from one planet to the other was over in a spark pulse and before he knew it, Mirage was back home. 

The space bridge closed behind the visiting party, cutting them all off from Earth and leaving the Autobot alone with the Decepticons. With the Constructicons moving off the ramp and disappearing with the energon, Mirage quickly scanned the area, assessing the situation. He was in a lab, a large one and opposite him stood a computer console, several screens filling the wall above it, showing various views. Several tables and work benches scattered the floor space, some of the tables containing stasis cuffs and along one of the other walls were a number of windows, each looking into a small room, each room containing a berth, monitor and mech; each mech looking to be in a different state if distress. Taking all this in, and to his shock, Mirage concluded the laboratory could only belong to Shockwave. 

Okay, so maybe not the best place to end up but on the other hand, if Ratchet was on Cybertron and still alive it figured that he would be with the scientist. Now he believed he knew where he was, the spy needed to move quickly. He still had a little over a day of cloaking left but who knew how long it would be before he could get back to Earth, or how long before he found Ratchet.

“But waking them up will be suicide!” 

A disembodied voice pulled Mirage’s optics to the doorway the Constructicons had left through, two mechs striding through it. The Autobot barely held his gasp as a large purple Decepticon stepped into the lab. Knowing that Shockwave was still alive was one thing, but to see the large Decepticon was another.

“I did not ask for your opinion medic, I merely told you to have the upgraded formula ready for testing in two cycles.”

Shock rippled through Mirage as the owner of the first voice came into view. It couldn’t be!

“But Shockwave, their allegiance is to the planet not to any faction, they will destroy...” The smaller of the two mechs started to reply before the large scientist turned and struck him across the face, sending him sprawling.

“I thought you had learned that you do not question my decisions, Torque.” Shockwave coldly watched his assistant.

Torque refrained from touching his cheek as he pulled himself off the floor, his optics dropping to the ground. “Of course, Shockwave.”

Mirage left the ramp leading to the space bridge and stealthily made his way closer to the pair, shielding his invisible form behind a pillar as he listened to the conversation, still trying to convince himself that the unrecognisable Cybertronian was Ratchet.

“As instructed you will have the formula ready in two cycles for testing and pending a favourable outcome, we will begin the procedure.” Shockwave turned his back on Torque, bringing the conversation to an end.

Dim blue optics swept around the lab, passing across Mirage’s hidden form before Torque moved to his own station. Mirage focused on the mech. It had to be Ratchet. But if it was then where had his spark gone, his fire? Ratchet would never have taken that from anyone; then again no one else would have been stupid enough to raise their hand to the Autobot medic.

With silence filling the room Mirage did what he did best and waited, watching and assessing the situation. He hadn’t expected to find Ratchet so easily and he wasn’t sure how he was going to get him out of here as with the bridge leading directly to Shockwave’s lab, getting Ratchet out was going to be even more difficult than anticipated. The moments passed in heavy silence as the medic and the scientist worked, the large Decepticon showing no signs of leaving any time soon, then the Constructicons returned to the lab.

“Do you have any messages for Megatron?” Scrapper asked.

Shockwave stopped working and turned to the group. “Inform Megatron that that the first tests will take place two cycles from now, and should the outcome be positive the resurrection should be completed within three vorns.”

Scrapper cocked his helm. “You fancy sharing with us what it is you are resurrecting?" 

Regarding the green and purple mech, Shockwave ignored the question and made his way to the control console, opening the bridge back to Earth. “Just see that Lord Megatron receives my message.”

Aware that the purple Decepticon would never spill, Scrapper shrugged and motioned to his team to move out. 

Mirage didn’t like what he heard. The resurrecting of anything was never good.

With his ticket back to Earth closing once again behind the Constructicons, Mirage decided it was time to make contact with the mech he believed to be Ratchet so activating his internal comm, the Autobot called the mech stood not too far from him, his optics never leaving Shockwave as he did, looking for any sign that the Decepticon knew they weren’t alone. An error code pinged back at him instantly, informing the spy that the comm frequency he called didn’t exist. He tried again to be sure but the same error code came back at him. It was feasible that Ratchet had been forced to change his comm frequency and Mirage was still convinced that the blue and white mech he watched was indeed the Autobot CMO.

There was only one way he would be able to find out now so creeping out from where he hid, Mirage cautiously made his way to towards his target, hoping the medic wouldn’t give him away and with his energy field reeled in tightly, the Autobot spy stepped as close to the blue and white mech as he could and whispered, “Ratchet.”

Torque jumped at the whispered word. The familiar voice came from next to the medic’s audial but when he looked there was no one there. Shaking his helm, Torque assumed he was hearing ghosts from his recent past.

Torque’s startled state didn’t go unnoticed. “Is there a problem Torque?" 

“Nothing Shockwave, just an old glitch playing up.” A single red optic observed the medic for a moment before Shockwave turned back to his own project.

“Ratchet.” The name was whispered again, this time Torque managing to remain focused. He knew exactly who the voice belonged to and that it wasn’t a figment of his imagination. “That is you, isn’t it? His optics finally leaving Shockwave to watch the medic.

Torque remained mute, his optics never leaving his work as he quickly wrote a note on the data pad he was using, _get out of here!_ before quickly erasing the message and continuing with his notes.

“Send me your comm frequency.” The spy quietly demanded, his optics darting back to the purple Decepticon with his back towards them.

 _Sensors will pick up comm link_. Again the message was immediately erased.

“Then take me somewhere we can talk.” Mirage was trying hard to keep his patience, time becoming of the essence. He had been guilt tripped into this unofficial mission and all he wanted was to get in, get Ratchet and get the Pit out of here.

With the pretence of looking at up the monitor in front of him, Torque dilated his optics, a silent sign for Mirage to follow as the medic turned from his station.

“Where are you going, Torque?” Shockwave didn’t even deign himself to look at the medic.

“Quarters.” Ratchet replied blandly. “To collect notes.” When no response came from Shockwave, Torque took that as permission to leave the lab, quickly leading an invisible Mirage to his quarters.

Entering the meagre room, Torque felt the disturbance in the air around them as the Autobot spy began to power down his disrupter.

 _“Cameras!”_ Torque hissed. “Everywhere.” His optics flicked to above his door.

Keeping himself cloaked Mirage grabbed the medic, Torque shaking him off as he busied himself going through data pads on his desk.

“You have to go back Mirage. He _will_ kill you if he finds you.” Torque sat at his desk and sifted through some of his work, pretending to be occupied.

“Not without you Ratchet. You don’t belong here.” Mirage moved closer to the medic. “I don’t have too long left on my disrupter, I sat for two days in the cave waiting to get here.” Guilt tripping had worked on the spy, why not Ratchet?

“I…I can’t come back. It’s safer for you…”

“Safer!” Mirage’s cultured accent cut the medic off. “How is your helping the Decepticons safer for us? How can you even live with yourself, being back here?”

Anger had Torque spinning his seat around. “What choice did I have Mirage?" He spat angrily, the first emotion he had shown since reformatting his frame. "None of you wanted me there, you all made that quite clear! And if I _had_ stayed it would’ve been only a matter of time before he came for me. Don’t you get it, this is my punishment.”

“So repay a bad deed with another bad deed, you will have to remind me how that one works again Ratchet.” Despite his invisible form Mirage glared at the former Autobot CMO. “Again, how can you live with yourself?" 

Torque’s shoulders slumped, his optics dropping to the ground, his anger dissolving into shame. “Because I’m too much of a coward to kill myself.”

Ratchet’s reply sent Mirage reeling. “Ratchet…”

“Don’t call me that.” Torque turned back to his desk again, selecting a couple of data pads and sub-spacing them. “Ratchet is gone, you need to forget him.”

Annoyance rolled off the spy and over the blue and white mech. “Do not say that, there are mechs back on Earth who will do anything to have you back. Pit, do you really think I am here under orders? Command will have noticed by now I am missing but I am here because…well because mechs want you back. Wheeljack and the twins to be precise.” Torque’s spark lurched at the mention of the twins. “They begged me to come and get you.”

“Then they are fools.” Torque stood and stepped away from his desk. “All of you. You _need_ to go back Mirage, tell them you couldn’t find me. Shockwave has a troop of Drones heading out for Earth in thirty breems, you can go back with them.”

“Wait, what do you mean a troop of Drones?” Mirage asked, alarmed at that revelation. “We will not survive an attack by them as it is and there are more on the way?!” 

That old guilt and self-loathing from eons ago rolled over Torque. “The others on Earth will be coming back, for upgrades.”

“Ratchet, Torque, whatever you want me to call you, come with me. I’ve just enough power to cloak the two of us.” Mirage stopped short of pleading, it simply wasn’t his style, whatever the circumstances. “We’ll need you if we’re to survive the drones.”

“Mirage,” Torque turned to face the spy again. “Forget me, tell them I’m dead. My cycles are numbered anyway. Once I’ve done what needs to be done Shockwave isn’t going to keep me around, he won’t risk a rescue attempt longer than he needs to. You never know, I may find the courage to deactivate myself before that happens.”

It didn’t matter how long Torque lived his life regretting that he didn’t deactivate himself all those millennias ago, he still didn’t have the courage to go ahead and do it.

“Stay here until the Drones are ready to leave and remain cloaked, but leave the door open. There’s a camera trained on my door, you don’t want to attract attention by opening the door when you leave.” Torque paused at the now open door. “And Mirage, tell the twins…” Mirage watched the back of the medic. He knew there was no talking Ratchet into coming back and the medic was much larger than him so physically forcing him was out of the question. “Never mind.” He mumbled. “Just tell them I’ve gone." 

Without giving Mirage any time to say anything further, Torque walked out, leaving the Autobot spy alone.

~|~

From the console he worked at Shockwave watched the camera feed from Torque’s room, watching how the medic appeared to be busy with his data pads but would sporadically look to be conversing with someone, despite the lack of any other presence in the small room. 

Granted, the medic’s mental health was not in a good place and he would frequently be found pacing and talking to himself, but Toque’s behaviour seemed even more erratic than normal. The single red optic roved over the screen, looking for any evidence that there was someone else there in the room but if there was the camera wasn’t giving away any secrets.

Shockwave continued to monitor the room after Torque left, waiting for whoever was in there to reveal themselves. Entering the lab Torque caught sight of his room on the screen and even as he made his way to his work station, Shockwave made no attempt to hide the fact he was watching the medic’s room.

“Did you get what you were looking for?” The scientist kept his attention on the screen.

Pulling the data pads from his sub-space, Torque nodded. “I did.” His tone flat in a bid to hide any inflection his nervousness may give him.

Shockwave turned his attention to Torque. He didn’t trust the medic, and with good reason. “Is there any reason why you have left the door to your quarters open?” 

There was only a second of hesitation but it was enough for Shockwave to pick up on before Torque gave a barely visible shrug. “Mind must’ve been elsewhere.”

“That is easily fixable.” Opening a private comm line Shockwave instructed one of his Drones to call by Torque’s room and close the door, and whilst he was there he was to do a sweep of the area, check for alien energy signatures.

Torque hid the fear spiking through him, keeping his attention pinned on the violet liquid he poured into a test tube.

“I thought it would be wise to be close to the space bridge.” The whisper reassured Torque that Mirage was currently safe. “And whilst I wait for my ride back to Earth, maybe you can tell me what it is you are working on, what you plan to resurrect.”

A dark blue hand trembled as Torque placed the glass tube into a holder. This was his chance to warn the Autobots of what was coming, of what they were to face once he had completed the new formula, but with Shockwave’s optic still on him he was hardly in a position to talk; if anything he would give Mirage’s presence away.

“Maybe you could ask your friend to drop his cloaking shield.” Torque’s spark froze at the words, Mirage’s spark not faring much better. 

Turning to face his master the medic asked, “Friend?”

Shockwave opened the communal comms. “Team Delta-Two, your departure to Earth is postponed until further notice. Report to Sector Four for extra combat training and await further orders.” With his orders given Shockwave addressed the medic and his invisible friend. “He cannot remain hidden forever.” Shockwave was patient and he could wait for whatever device the mech was using to power down naturally.

\----------------------- 

**On Earth...**

“Let me get this straight.” Prowl’s calm voice belied the anger he was barely holding on to. “Mirage took on an unauthorised solo mission, to Cybertron,” Sideswipe was about to interrupt and point out that it was a _rescue_ mission but the murderous look he received from the officer stopped him dead. “And now you are telling me that you believe something has gone wrong!”

“Yes, Prowl.” Wheeljack answered for all three of them. “We thought he could be in and out…”

Prowl shook his helm. “I do not want to hear it Wheeljack! I am still trying to process that at some point you all thought this was a good idea.” Prowl paused, giving himself a moment to regain his self-control. These past few months had been one thing after another and the tactician was pretty sure he was on the verge of a glitch. “Sunstreaker and Sideswipe I expect this behaviour from but you Wheeljack, you are part of the command chain. You should know, no, you _do_ know better!”

“Gee, thanks Prowl.” Sideswipe finally cut in. “After all we do.”

Icy cold optics shot to the front liner.

 _~Don’t push him Swipe!~_ Sunstreaker poked his brother through the bond. _~He’s close to snapping.~_ Sunstreaker shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his arms folded across his chest. He could sense Prowl’s looming anger and it made him feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t that Sunstreaker couldn’t deal with Prowl’s rarely shared wrath, the front liner would shout back just as loudly as Prowl, but it was that dependability, or loss of it that Sunstreaker didn’t like. Just as with the tidy office, the tidy office indicating everything was under control and that gave Sunstreaker a measure of calmness.

Sideswipe however ignored Sunstreaker’s advice. “At least we got off our afts and did something.” Sideswipe jabbed at his own chest, underlining his words.

“If you call sending Mirage to what may have been his death without backup  _doing something_ then I am happy to not be doing anything, Sideswipe.” Prowl’s temper was teetering on the edge. “I will _not_ have mechs thinking they can hop over to Cybertron whenever they like, the situation is dire enough without Autobots disappearing to Primus knows where!” Prowl paused and reeled in his anger. “Tell me again,” he restarted calmly. “At what point did any of you think this was a good idea?" 

All three mechs stared back in silence.

 _“Well!?”_ Prowl barked, his moment of calmness evaporating at the lack of response.

“We never claimed it was a good idea!” Sunstreaker snapped back, his cobalt optics blazing into Prowl’s, ignoring his earlier advice to Sideswipe. “We were desperate and you clearly weren’t going to organise a search party to Cybertron, so we did!”

“What _search party!?”_ Prowl almost snarled at Sunstreaker. “You sent one mech to an unknown location and now he is missing. I credited you with more intelligence than this Sunstreaker, clearly I was wrong.” 

A lowly growl began to rumble from the golden front liner before it was cut off by the appearance of Optimus Prime, the Autobot commander closely followed by Jazz and Ironhide.

“Sunstreaker, please take a moment to calm yourself down.” The Prime ordered, feeling Sunstreaker’s angry energy field as he walked through the door. “Prowl, do you mind if I take over?”

“Be my guest Prime.” Prowl glared at the offending mechs before taking a seat, his follow officers sitting with him whilst Optimus addressed the three mechs before him.

“I know I do not have to tell you how grave a situation this is.” Optimus looked from one to the other. “Wheeljack, I am surprised and somewhat disappointed at you, an officer of this ship going behind our backs.” Wheeljack held his commander’s stare but before he could respond the Prime continued. “In fact I am disappointed in all of you. This has been a tough time, agreed, but a risk has been taken and now we are missing another mech.”

Shame rolled through the twins and matching optics dropping to the ground. They despised the idea of disappointing their Prime and although they were very adept at causing and getting into trouble, disappointing Optimus was not something they enjoyed. They worked hard to pay back a debt they felt they owed Optimus, Prowl too, but in a desperate bid to rescue Ratchet they had done exactly what they had always tried to avoid doing.

Sideswipe’s gaze finally lifted from the floor, dark blue optics staring up at Optimus, desperate for the Prime to understand. “We’re sorry we let you Prime, we…” Sideswipe tried to organise his thoughts. “But you _have_ to understand why we did it, and if Sunny and I could’ve gotten through the bridge ourselves then we wouldn’t have gotten Mirage involved.”

“And I do not doubt that Sideswipe, however you have still violated an order given by myself that no one shall enter the space bridge.” Optimus held the front liner’s gaze.

“But what about Ratchet?” Sideswipe countered, frustration beginning to bubble. “We couldn’t sit back and not _do_ anything while all of you,” Sideswipe looked at the officers sat at the table. “Gave up on him.” He winced at his words, Sunstreaker looking at his twin grimly as he accused command, accused Optimus of abandoning Ratchet.

“We have not given up Sideswipe.” Optimus pulled the front liner’s attention back to himself. “But we cannot risk lives to find him, not when we do not know where he is. How do you think Ratchet will feel if Mirage has lost his life whilst trying to bring him home?” Sideswipe dropped his optics again, shame rolling through him once more.

Momentarily touching Sideswipe’s elbow in reassurance, Wheeljack spoke up. “But what about those of us willing to risk our lives Prime? I for one couldn’t spend the rest of my life knowing I didn’t do everything I could to help him.”

“You forget, Wheeljack,” Prowl cut into the conversation. “Ratchet left here under his own volition.”

Helm fins flashed wildly, broadcasting the frustration Wheeljack shared with Sideswipe. “Only because he felt he didn’t have a choice, Prowl! Apart from Sideswipe and myself, who of you went to see him after the Tracks incident? None of you, that’s who!” Wheeljack had no such qualms at accusing his fellow commanders of letting his friend down. “Ratchet has always been there for every one of us yet when he needed us the most we failed him.” 

“Wheeljack!” Prowl warned.

“No, Prowl.” Prime raised his hand to stop his officer. “Wheeljack is only telling it as it is. I have preached to the crew about how Ratchet is still one of us but where has my support been? All of ours.” Taking a seat Optimus motioned for Wheeljack and the twins to sit too, his mask retracting so he could scrub at his face. “I have failed Ratchet.”

“That’s not what I said Prime.” Wheeljack replied. “ _We,_ the entire crew failed him. We forgot what it was to be a team, no matter what.”

“But as your Prime I should have led by example. Instead I told everyone how they had to accept what has happened and move on, making no display of solidarity myself.” For the first time in a long time Optimus found himself flailing against the wind. He had believed that words alone would be enough to fix this.

“Which is understandable Prime.” Prowl replied. “You have other commitments, a ship to run…”

Prime cut his officer off. “That does not excuse my failure, Prowl. My priority should be to keep you mechs safe and now we have lost two soldiers and we have no idea of their status.”

Jazz interjected this time. “Way I see it, we have two choices.”

Prowl turned is helm to the fellow officer. “And would you care to share these choices.” The tactician not quite sure what Jazz was going to suggest.

The head spy gave a nonchalant shrug. “We storm the space bridge and go and see what’s on the other side of that portal.”

Prime rubbed at his face again. “And our other choice?” Not that he needed to ask.

“We call Megatron.” Jazz cocked a hidden optic brow.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t tried talking to Megatron before now, asking for news on their medic and whether there was anything they could exchange for him, the problem was that Megatron wouldn’t even confirm or deny whether Ratchet was in his tender care, unless Prime and his Autobots surrendered.

The next time they tried conversing with the warlord, Megatron didn’t even grace them with his virtual presence, leaving Starscream to do his bidding, but as always Starscream went over the top and once again the Prime came away none the wiser to Ratchet’s fate. However, now there were two lives at risk.

“Why do I get the foreboding feeling that we would achieve more by attacking?” Optimus was musing rather than considering.

Jazz activated the meeting room comm.

“Blaster at your service.” The orange mech's voice greeted the command team.

“Patch a video call to the Nemesis my good mech.” Jazz turned back to Optimus. “We won’t lose anything by asking.”

“Right on it.” Blaster intoned, cutting the link to do as requested.

Sideswipe began to fidget and Sunstreaker elbowed him. “Ouch!” Sideswipe frowned at his brother and rubbed his arm.

“Well stop being a glitch.” He hissed, not bothering with their bond.

Everyone’s attention turned to Sideswipe. “What’s up mech?” Ironhide grumbled from across the meeting table.

Sideswipe looked around the table. “What if Megatron doesn’t know Mirage travelled through the spacebridge? We’ll be putting him in danger, if he…isn’t already.” The front liner’s words trailed off.

“So you do care about Mirage’s welfare.” The cutting comment had Sideswipe glaring at Prowl.

“Give ‘im a break Prowl.” Ironhide stuck up for his soldier. “It’s not like you’ve never done anything for the greater good” The burly mech managed to keep his sarcasm curtailed.

Prowl have Ironhide a pointed look. “I would never have sent Mirage on a suicide mission without the necessary intel.”

Holding the Praxian’s stare Ironhide countered, “But you have no qualms sending these two on suicide missions.”

The tension in the room suddenly notched up a gear. The missions the twins were sent on were never spoken about, never outwardly acknowledged; there was always a risk that someone could be listening.

“We do what we need to do.” Sunstreaker cut in. Despite the dressing down they had received from Prowl he wasn’t going to sit back and listen to this. “And Prowl protects us in the best way he can.”

Jazz drew the groups attention to himself, breaking up the potential for fireworks. “Hey mechs, I think we’ve gone a little off topic here. Sides is right. We don’t know the Decepticons have Mirage so we need to think about this carefully. If Blaster does get Megatron on comms, and I don’t know what's taking so long, then we’ll just enquire about Ratchet and see if he mentions Mirage himself, agreed?”

“Agreed.” Optimus replied. “We need time to plan what we should do if Mirage is indeed in Decepticon clutches. Wheeljack, we need to know exactly where that space bridge leads to, is there anything you can do?”

“Probe.” The engineer replied. “Remote controlled probe. I have the plans for one based on Teletraan’s schematics and I could have something up and running in a few days.”

“But you could not have done this before sending Mirage to his possible death.” Prowl monotoned, cool blue optics on the chief engineer.

“Asking Mirage wasn’t planned.” Sideswipe piped up. “It was a spur of the moment thing, you know me, I don’t always think.”

Optimus raised a servo. “None of that matters right now. Wheeljack, all other projects are to wait, I want to see something, yesterday.”

“Right on it, Sir.” Wheeljack got to his feet and looked down to the seated twins. “I could do with a little assistance if you two are up for it.” The twins looked to their Prime, sure they were in for some brig time as it wasn’t as if they were of any use at times like this. Brute force and fighting skills, yes, and Sideswipe could offer tactical assistance but Sunstreaker didn’t really have much else to offer.

Optimus nodded his agreement. “You two give Wheeljack whatever help he requires…" 

The Prime was cut off as the warning claxon sounded throughout the Ark.

//DECEPTICONS REPORTED AT MEDICAL RESEARCH FACILITY IN PORTLAND. REPEAT, DECEPTICONS REPORTED AT MEDICAL RESEARCH FACILITY IN PORTLAND. ALL AUTOBOTS TO REPORT TO THE CONTROL ROOM IMMEDIATELY// 

The warning explaining why Blaster had not yet patched through the Decepticon leader.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that didn't go according to plan...oh yeah, what plan? _What will be Mirage's fate?_ you ask...that my readers, is a story for another time. ^^
> 
> Next chapter: The battle brings an unexpected surprise for the Autobots, although it was always a matter of when and not if.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suntreaker receives a shock when he attacks a Decepticon during battle.

Laser fire sliced through the rain and across the battlefield from both sides whilst hand to hand battles weaved their way through the throng of metallic beings. Shouts of commands and warnings could be heard both out loud and through comms, cracks of thunder accompanying the bellows.

This meeting with their foe was a far cry from the Autobots last gathering, Megatron not greeting them gleefully with a story to tell; instead the warlord instantly setting his Decepticons on his enemy upon their arrival.

//Maybe he doesn’t have Mirage.// Sideswipe’s voice filled Jazz’s comm. //He could just be AWOL.//

Jazz’s response was delayed for a moment as he took cover from an aerial assault. //Don’t be so sure Siders. Maybe Megs just ain't ready to share the news.//

The heavy downpour sleeking down his mostly red frame, Sideswipe became embroiled in his own one on one battle. The Decepticons were relentless today and the Drones hadn’t even joined the party.

Elsewhere on the battlefield Sunstreaker fought alongside Bluestreak and Smokescreen, the trio of mechs driving back Swindle and Brawl through the mud until suddenly they retreated, heading towards their gestalt commander and preparing to form Bruticus no doubt.

//Optics on the Combaticons, they’re grouping together.// Sunstreaker warned over the communal comm, the rest of the Autobots tracking where the quintet of Decepticons were and acknowledging. Bluestreak and Smokescreen broke away to aid other comrades leaving Sunstreaker to find a new opponent, and it wasn’t long before a lone Decepticon stumbled into his line of sight.

Sunstreaker noticed how the Decepticon wasn’t heading towards the Autobots but across the battlefield and towards a downed mech, his blaster held loosely in his hand, and the the front liner decided to intercept him before he reached his destination. With a wild cry, Sunstreaker’s mask slid into place as he launched himself towards his target, his optics pinned on his goal.

The Decepticon didn’t know what hit him as he was thrown to the ground, landing face down in the dirt, air abruptly expelled from his vents with an “Unf!” as he lost the grip on his blaster. The mech was given no time to recover as the Autobot warrior fell on him, twisting his frame around so that his back now lay in the sodden ground.

Torque knew this Autobot even if the Autobot didn’t know him, and he knew that Sunstreaker wouldn’t strike him in the back at this range, not when he would rather see the light in his enemy’s optics flicker and fade as their life was extinguished.

Sunstreaker was too far gone to his battle coding, his killer instinct to realise that there was a medic wearing the Decepticon brand. There were no known official Decepticon medics on Earth but this fact failed to register with Sunstreaker, especially when on top of his battle frame of mind he was tired and angry, his failure to find Ratchet raging through him; this lone mech about to take the brunt of Sunstreaker's icy cold wrath.

“Any final words, _Decepticon_?” He spat, not really interested in anything the Decepticon had to say.

Blue optics flickered in fear as the masked face of Sunstreaker hovered over his own face, at the same time the tip of the energon blade Sunstreaker swapped his blaster for found a gap in plating and threatened to pierce the medic’s protoform. For a moment Sunstreaker hesitated as he looked into the orbs of light, the faintest of recognition registering before he shut the line of thought down. There was no time for thought in the heat of battle, only instinct, yet something was telling Sunstreaker to stop.

Maybe it was the blue optics staring at him in fear…blue optics…suddenly the energon blade was pulled away from the Decepticon’s plating, Sunstreaker's optics widening.

“Sun…Sunstreaker.” Came a voice filled with fear and resignation.

The same fear which was clear in Sunstreaker’s prey’s optics bled through his vocals and the realisation was like a bolt of lightning to Sunstreaker’s frame. Rearing up on his knees, cold optics travelled over the Decepticon’s frame, the Autobot shaking his head in denial. It couldn’t be him, not here, not fighting against the faction he had been devoted to, fighting against the mechs he had fought to save time and time again.

“No!” The front liner’s face remained masked, his voice firm but his optics no longer held their cold stare, instead they were filled with confusion. “You _can’t_ be!”

This couldn’t be happening, not after all the searching and not after persuading Mirage to go to what may have been his death. Ratchet couldn't be here and fighting against them.

Torque pulled himself into a seated position, ignoring the blaster fire around them while he focused solely on Sunstreaker. “You _have_ to kill me.” He pleaded.

The words barely registered with Sunstreaker as cobalt optics continued to rove over Torque’s frame, taking in the dullness, the lack of sheen despite the rain which glistened on the white and blue plating. Whoever this mech was he clearly wasn’t taking care of himself, his optics lacklustre even when filled with fear.

“Ratch…” Sunstreaker could barely bring himself to say the medic’s designation. “Please tell me that isn’t you.” Sunstreaker was conflicted. If it was Ratchet then their search was over, they would take him home, but at the same time the idea that Ratchet would take up arms against the Autobots felt like a punch to Sunstreaker’s tank.

Torque looked away, his shame getting the better of him. Until now he had managed to stay out of battle but he had just arrived on Earth when Megatron launched this attack and was forced to join the melee.

“ _Please_ , Sunstreaker,” the Decepticon pleaded as he looked back at the Autobot. “Kill me!”

Yellow plating beginning to rattle as his frame shook from the shock and Sunstreaker lifted his energon blade, but before he could lift it enough to strike with conviction the front liner lowered it. “No.” He whispered. “I can’t.”

Anger flashed through Torque’s optics, anger born out of desperation. “It‘s the only way I can stop what is coming, and before they turn me into one of _them_.”

Sunstreaker only moved to sit back on his heels. “One of who? A Decepticon! Isn’t that what you already are?” The words were bitter on Sunstreaker’s glossa. Even here in the heart of the battlefield, purple faction symbol emblazoned on the former Autobot Cheir Medical Offier’s chest, Sunstreaker found it difficult to believe that Ratchet truly was a Decepticon. In his spark he knew the mech was doing what he had to in order to survive.

“Don’t think of me as Ratchet, he’s gone, never really was…”

Sunstreaker growled. “Don’t say that, it’s not true. This, who you think you are, this is the mask. This mech, I don't know who he is but he would never have been able to do what Ratchet did, what you did to keep us going.” Sunstreaker’s vents heaved in ragged pulls. He could feel Sideswipe’s concern over his whereabouts through the bond but other than sending back a reassuring pulse Sunstreaker ignored his twin in favour of the medic.

“If I’ve ever truly meant anything to you,” Torque continued, “then you’ll do this for me.”

Sunstreaker was suddenly filled with broiling rage, his battle mask retracting. “Don’t you even go there!” His anger reduced his words to a quiet hiss. “We’d have done anything for you but don’t ask me to do this because I won’t. I _can’t_!”

Torque climbed to his knees, hands gripping hold of Sunstreaker’s battle damaged plating. “If you don’t then I can’t stop what is coming and you leave me to Shockwave’s mercy.”

Pain lanced through the front liner’s spark. “Then come back with me, now.” Sunstreaker opened a comm line to all of command as he spoke. “We can take you away from this and we won’t let Megatron or Shockwave near you. We’ll better protect you this time, now we know you need protecting.”

Dull optics held Sunstreaker’s darker ones. Torque wanted to believe the younger Autobot, believe that he would be safe in their care but it wasn’t his safety he had been worried about when he left. Only now his departure was putting them in greater danger. “They’ll never let me leave alive but that’s the least of your problems. You’re not listening to me.” Torque’s frustration began to rise. “If we win this battle and get what we came for, and I go back to Cybertron, then I sign your death warrant, all of you.”

Sunstreaker shook his head. “How? The drones? We’ll fight them, Swipe and I will take them out.”

“ _No!”_ Torque shouted as the drum of rain grew louder, the storm moving directly over them. “This is much bigger than the Drones, Shockwave, he plans to…” Torque’s words were drowned out by a rolling clash of thunder.

Sunstreaker, missing the medic’s words, was distracted by numerous responses on his comm. //I’ve found Ratchet.// He had let Sideswipe in on the comm chatter too, his twin’s incredulous response drowning out the others.

//And you’re only just fragging telling me!//

//Excuse me for being preoccupied with discovering the mech I was about to _kill_ is in fact our medic!// Sunstreaker’s pulse of annoyance surged through the twin bond.

A series of expletives and comments from various sources jostled through the comms.

//How the frag didn’t you know who he was?// Sideswipe suddenly screeched.

Sunstreaker raked his optics over the older mech before him once more. //He’s not quite how you remember him, Swipe.//

//Mirage.// Prowl’s voice came through. //Does he know anything about Mirage?//

“Do you know anything about Mirage?” Sunstreaker asked. “We sent him through the bridge to look for you, he never came back.”

Guilt swamped the medic. “He…Shockwave discovered him.”

“Frag! Where is he now?” Sunstreaker gripped the Decepticon’s upper arms and shook him. “Is he still alive?”

“Yes.” Torque replied quickly. “He came back with me today and Vortex came to pick him up.” Torque tightened his own hold on the front liner. “Sunstreaker,” he pleaded again. “Please. I know this is my doing but you need to stop it, the Guardians, if we succeed in resurrecting them then Megatron will be unstoppable.”

“Guardians?” Sunstreaker asked, confused.

Frustration rolled through Torque. “Yes, didn’t you hear what I said…”

//Sunstreaker.// Prowl called. //Do you have news on Mirage?//

Torn between pressing the medic for more information and responding to Prowl, Sunstreaker called through the bond to Sideswipe. _~Get to my location, Swipe.~_

 _~Already on my way.~_ Sideswipe was running through the fighting mob of Autobots and Decepticons, looking for Sunstreaker.

//Sunstreaker!// Prowl cooly snapped through the comm. //Do you have news?//

//Vortex.// The front liner quickly replied. //He’s here on Earth and was sent away with Vortex, but the copter’s here which means Raj is at least safe for now. //

//But for how long?// Sideswipe jumped in. //We don’t know where the Combats are based, how are we supposed to rescue him?//

//Don’t worry about Raj.// Jazz added. //You’ll be surprised at what he can endure whilst we figure something out, in the meantime we need to take Vortex out of action. That'll buy us time.//

//How can you be so easy about this, Jazz?// Sideswipe’s guilt ate at him, he blamed himself for the fact Mirage was missing in the first place.

//Because right now there’s nothing we can do Siders.// He understood how Sideswipe felt but now was not the time to get bogged down with guilt.

//Ironhide// Prowl cut in. //Priority is to ensure Vortex cannot get back to Mirage.//

//Consider it done.// Checking the location of his team, Ironhide put a comm out. //Grimlock, I need you and your mechs with me. Under no circumstances can Bruticus be allowed to form and we want Vortex out of action.// A grumbled response was returned down the comm but the Dinobot fell inline with Ironhide, Grimlock throwing his own commands to his team and the group circled in on the Combaticons.

Sideswipe finally located Sunstreaker and a mech he didn’t recognise, but he wasn’t the only one who had spotted the pair.

Anything else Jazz may have said to Sideswipe was ignored as he watched Megatron approach Sunstreaker and the mech his twin claimed was Ratchet, his spark pulsing with fear as the large Decepticon loomed over his brother.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Energon turned cold in Sunstreaker’s lines. “If it isn’t one of the Autobot twins trying to play hero.” Megatron mocked, ruby optics quickly scanning the field. “And here comes the other one.”

Sideswipe only faltered momentarily before continuing on his route to Sunstreaker’s side.

“Stay where you are Autobot.” Not taking his optics off Sideswipe, Megatron aimed his readied cannon at Sunstreaker's back, the heat from its recent use prickling at his plating. The action halted Sideswipe in his tracks this time. “So,” Megatron turned his attention back to Sunstreaker. “Did you think you could just walk away with _my_ Decepticon?”

“He’s not your Decepticon.” Sunstreaker seethed between gritted denta, the urge to attack the warlord growing, his battle protocols demanding control.

“Oh? And there was me thinking he had returned to us willingly.” Megatron smirked at the front liner’s back. “But if you think I’m going to let you walk away with him then you are sorely mistaken Autobot, not when he is still of value to me. You on the other hand are of no use to me.” Megatron paused, canting his head in thought. “Hmmm!” He hummed. “But you would make a very competent drone.”

Torque’s optics shot from Sunstreaker to Megatron. “No!” The word not quite swallowed by the pouring rain.

Megatron’s gaze shifted from Sunstreaker to Torque. “Dare you say _no_ to me?” Had Sunstreaker not been between him and the medic the Decepticon leader would have struck out at Torque, instead he commanded, “Shoot him!” Megatron’s cannon was still at Sunstreaker’s back but his optics on _his_ medic.

Sunstreaker’s optics widened at the words but he kept his fear locked away, Torque however couldn’t stop his reaction.

“ _What?!_  No!” He didn’t care who it was he defied as optics flicked between Sunstreaker and Megatron, and back again. “I won’t do it.” Torque could only hope that Megatron would kill him for his defiance but he knew that wasn’t going to happen, not until Megatron had what he wanted from him.

“Then I will.” Megatron’s cannon, ready to be fired, only needed the command. “But if you shoot him there’s a chance he’ll survive long enough for the Autobot's to save him, if I shoot him at this range there won’t be anything left to intern.”

Drawing a deep vent Sunstreaker snatched Torque's fallen blaster from the ground and shoving it at the medic, he pressed his yellow chest against the muzzle. “Do it, Ratchet!” He demanded coldly as he slipped into that place he went to when he needed to close himself off from what was happening. “Shoot me!” Sunstreaker knew if he had any chance of surviving this then Ratchet had to be the one to shoot him, not Megatron.

Torque shook his head. “No!” He stated again. There was nothing on this planet that would make him shoot Sunstreaker. How could he?

Sunstreaker forced the blue hand of the Decepticon to the trigger. “ _Shoot me Primus dammit!”_ He shouted. Sunstreaker trusted the medic in spite of the fact he currently bore the Decepticon insignia where his once adorned his Autobot one.

~ _What the frag are you doing Sunny?_ ~ Sideswipe cried through the bond as he could do nothing but watch on. ~ _Fight the Pit back._ ~ “Frag this!” He seethed to himself, aiming his blaster and firing it at the Decepticon leader.

Megatron lifted his gaze towards the Autobot, a smirk playing on his lips after the laser fire bounced off the ground.

~ _Back off Swipe!_ ~ Sunstreaker growled through their bond. ~ _I know what I’m doing._ ~

~ _Frag backing off!_ ~ Sideswipe fired again, this time striking Megatron in his shoulder, pulling a laugh from the Warlord.

“It seems that your brother wishes to share your fate.” The heat of the cannon suddenly left Sunstreaker’s back as Megatron trained it on Sideswipe. "Or maybe I will spare you and when your spark is dYong in grief over your brother's death, you will come begging for me to turn you into one of my drones."

Both Sunstreaker and Torque froze at the cruel words, Torque the first to regain his senses. "Protect Sideswipe!" He demanded. "Kill me and protect Sideswipe!"

Sunstreaker looked from Ratchet to Sideswipe and back, his spark racing with fear. "Come back with us." It was almost as though he hadn't registered what was going on.

"What is to be Sunstreaker, the medic or your brother?"

Icy cold fear began to trickle through Sunstreaker, he needed to distract Megatron. “ _Shoot me you traitorous fragger!”_ He screamed at Ratchet, pressing the muzzle of the baster harder against his own chest. “You knew what would happen if you joined them, you knew this day would come!” Blue optics flashed angrily at the blue and white mech knelt on the ground with him. “I thought you were stronger than all of this but you proved me wrong.” The words were only meant to spur Ratchet into action, if Sunstreaker were to lose his life then maybe he could keep Sideswipe and Ratchet alive, but the words began to echo Sunstreaker’s feelings. “I would’ve done _anything_ to keep you safe, Sideswipe too, but we were never good enough for you, were we?” Sunstreaker spat the cold words at the medic.

Torque shook his head. “Never think you weren’t good enough Sunstreaker,  _I_ wasn’t good enough for you!”

Megatron shifted his attention from Sideswipe to Sunstreaker with a vent of exaggerated boredom over the conversation. “Yes, yes. Torque loves you Sunstreaker but protected you by pushing you away, blah, blah. You really should watch the footage we recorded from his memory banks, it makes for interesting viewing.”

Sunstreaker faltered for a moment but his chilly demeanour didn't allow him to dwell on the words. Ignoring the Decepticon leader he added, “Maybe they were all right, _Torque_ , maybe you’re so good that you hoodwinked us all.” Sunstreaker shook the blaster belonging to the Autobot medic turned Decepticon. “Now _shoot_  me.” He seethed, his anger masking his fear over his brother. Sunstreaker was in an impossible position, either Sideswipe would have to watch him die or Megatron would kill Sideswipe.

“I can't” Torque hoarsely whispered. 

Megatron made an impatient noise, pulling Torque's optics up to him. "I will continue to serve you Lord Megatron, if you let the twins go."

Anger surged through Sunstreaker at Torque's words. "How can you demean yourself to him?" He snarled.

Dim optics moved back to Sunstreaker, the blaster still nestled between the two of them. "Because it is the only chance I have of keeping you both safe."

" _Enough!_ " Megatron's patience had finally run out. "If you can't make a decision Sunstreaker then I shall make it for you."

Despite the fact that those around the small group of mechs continued to battle, none allowing themselves to be distracted from their own scraps, the world seemed to stop spinning for Sunstreaker, silence filling his audios as everything around him became a blur.

The buzz of a blaster broke through the silence just before Sunstreaker heard the shot, the front liner bracing himself for the pain which never came.

It was Sideswipe's energon curdling cry which finally brought the battle to a halt, Autobots and Decepticons following Sideswipe's line of sight, his cry pulling Sunstreaker out of his haze. Confused and panicked Sunstreaker looked to Sideswipe but he couldn't see any injuries on his brother, nor could he feel any pain through the bond, so what was Sideswipe shrieking about?

Blue optics then dropped to Ratchet who now lay on the floor with a scorch mark on his chest, smoke covering a raged hole which penetrated his plating, and horror fidled the Autobot. Sunstreaker had missed the moment when Ratchet turned the blaster held between their frames on himself. The medic may have lacked the courage to end his life before now but with the lives of the twins at risk, the former Autobot would do anything to keep them safe.

When realisation of what happened dawned on Megatron rage swept through him as he swung his cannon back at Sunstreaker. “That. Was. My. Medic!” He roared. “My _plans!”_ With his anger getting the better of him Megatron fired his cannon before it was fully focused on his target, a smoking hole in the ground its only real destruction as debris rained down on golden plating, the torrents of rain instantly washing away the dirt. Another roar of anger filled the air and Decepticons began to back away from their opponents; all knowing any one of them could be the one to bear the brunt of Megatron’s fury when they returned to the Nemesis.

//Lord Megatron, we have acquired our quarry.// Soundwave's comm call stilled Megatron's anger for a moment. //Recommended course of action, retreat.//

Megatron bristled, his optics dropping to the injured medic. //Negative Soundwave, I have business still to attend to.// The Decepticon leader cut the comm link with his officer, his anger returning as he looked at Torque's damaged frame.

" _No!_ " He roared. He had a plan, a big plan, and losing Torque was not part of it, not yet. "I _will_ see this plan succeed!" His words thrown at no one in particular but for all to hear. "This will not fail!" His faction shrank back further, their battles now forgotten.

Dimming blue optics looked up at Sunstreaker, focusing solely on the yellow mech as Sunstreaker pulled him into his lap. "Sorry!" Came rasped words. "Tried to protect you." Torque tried to touch Sunstreaker's face but his arm felt like lead as his energy waned.

Sunstreaker looked around the field desperately seeking someone, anyone who could help Ratchet, but the truth was Ratchet was the only one good enough. " _Aid!_ " He screamed, not caring that the Decepticon leader was still stood behind him. Dropping his optics back down to the mech in his arms fear filled Sunstreaker's spark. "Don't you dare die on us, Ratchet!" The front liner squeezed at the frame with a gaping hole in its chest. "Swipe and I need you." Sunstreaker's vocals were thick with emotion.

Ratchet gave a weak laugh. "You two...don't need me." The medic began spitting static. "So strong, so beautiful."

Sunstreaker shook his head. "Don't talk, save your energy." He could feel Ratchet's energy field weakening. " _Aid!"_ He screamed again through both the comms and out loud.

From behind him a maniacal chuckle filled the air. "You Autobots are so weak and pathetic."

Sunstreaker ignored the Decepticon and the sound of his cannon powering back up, his attention on Ratchet.

"Megatron!" Optimus' voice cut across the battlefield as he moved towards his foe. "Back away from my Autobots." The Prime had his blaster trained on the large, grey mech. "I am taking Ratchet home." The Autobot leader continued to close the space separating him from Megatron. "And you are going to retreat."

Megatron glanced over his shoulder at his Decepticons, all looking to him for direction as other Autobots now pinned them with their weapons.

"And you are all just as bad as the Autobots!" He spat out, his faction's cowardice fuelling his anger. Megatron turned back to Optimus. "I have what I came for, now I'll just take my medic..."

" _My_ medic!" Optimus stepped ever closer.

"But he left you Prime and joined me, and who am I to turn away a willing Decepticon?"

Optimus came to stand next to Sunstreaker and Ratchet, his optics only momentarily dropping to the damaged mech before fixing back on Megatron. "Take what you came for and leave Megatron."

"Not without my medic."

Anger surged through Sunstreaker as the two faction leaders argued over who Ratchet belonged to. "He's not a pile of scrap," he growled, "to be fought over." Pulling the weakening mech towards his chest, optics blazed up at the two leaders. "None of us own him." A choked sound pulled Sunstreaker's attention, the dim blue optics below him flickering. "Hold on Ratchet, I've got you."

With Megatron still looming over Sunstreaker and Ratchet, Sideswipe bombarded the twin bond whilst he remained rooted to where he stood, not daring to move. ~ _Help him Sunny!_ ~

~ _What d'you expect me to do?_ ~ Sunstreaker snapped back, desperately wishing he could help.

~ _I don't know._ ~ Sideswipe, unable to help was agitated. ~ _Just don't let him die._ ~

Sunstreaker looked up and glared across at his brother. ~ _Not helping Swipe._ ~

Megatron sneered at the mechs below him, optics running over Torque's damaged frame. Having taken a self inflicted point blank range shot, the medic was in poor condition and Decepticon resources were too low to carry out full repairs, especially on top of any injuries his faction had received this battle; but the sacrifice of his troops surely would be worth it when Torque still had work to complete.

Optics rising to meet Optimus, Megatron put a call through to the Nemises where he had left Shockwave working with the Drones.

//Lord Megatron, I trust the battle is going well.//

The warlord had no time for small talk. //Can we complete the resurrection without Torque?//

A beat of silence passed. //It would be preferable for Torque to be in attendance, Lord Megatron.// Shockwave, knowing better than to question his leader, waited for Megatron to continue.

//I am not interested in preferable, can we complete the project without him?// Megatron's tone warned Shockwave not to hesitate.

//I believe that we have enough data from Torque to finish the project, Lord Megatron.//

Megatron glared down at the broken medic again, tempted to leave a crater in place of Torque and the Autobot holding him but Optimus pulled him from his musing.

"This is your last chance, Megatron." The Prime's finger twitched on his blaster and the Decepticon leader canted his head.

"We both know you won't pull that trigger, Prime. You are nothing without me." Stepping back, Megatron addressed his Decepticons. "Back to the Nemesis." He commanded, his focus still on the Prime. "But enjoy this one, Optimus," The Decepticon leader stepped back further, his soldiers already taking to the skies around him. "It'll be the last retreat from me you will see." His tone full of promise. "And this planet will finally be mine."

Optimus watched his foe as they retreated. It was a promise he had heard from Megatron time and time over but something in his spark told him that this time it was no idle threat, nor bravado. He looked down at Ratchet and he knew something big was coming. But the only mech who could tell him what that was was laying in Sunstreaker's arms and barely online. He was jostled from his thoughts as Sideswipe threw himself on his knees next to his brother, hands pawing over Ratchet's frame, trying to stem the flow of energon.

"Why isn't Aid here?" Sideswipe frantically looked around him, catching sight of the Protectobot heading their way. "Hang on Ratch." He looked down at the medic. "Help is coming." Sideswipe looked up at his brother. "He...he's not gonna make it, is he?"

"He will, it's Ratchet, he's too tough to give up." Sunstreaker told Sideswipe what he needed to hear, what he too needed to hear too, but he could feel Ratchet's energy weakening.

"But he gave up once." Sadness filled Sideswipe's spark as he dropped his attention back to the blackened hole in Ratchet's chest. "He gave up on the Autobot's and turned to the Cons. What if he doesn't want to survive?"

The twins fell silent, their bond a swirling mess of emotions they wouldn't show as First Aid fell beside him, quickly carrying out a scan of Ratchet's systems before proceeding to set up an IV.

"We need to get him to the med bay, _now!_ " First Aid called for Skyfire over the comms. "His spark is fading, we really don't have long." Ratchet's energon slicked the ground and Sunstreaker's frame as quickly as it was washed away by the rain, the line First Aid set up doing very little to replace what was lost. The Protectobot barely managed to keep control of his hands, it would do no good for anyone to see them shake as he worked.

No sooner Skyfire had arrived and transformed into his shuttle form, Sunstreaker heaved himself and Ratchet up, Sideswipe helping him bear the weight of the medic as they quickly moved to Skyfire's waiting form, First Aid trailing after them whilst the other Autobots silently watched, even those who had exhibited their disdain for the former Decepticon curbing their barbed comments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, so that was a thing that happened. Do the twins finally have their medic back? Will Ratchet survive? I'll tell you in another, say, ten months time ^^ I promise I shall try and not take so long to update.
> 
> Warning for next chapter as the dub/non-con tag comes into play.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Sunstreaker discovered that the Decpticon he was about to kill during battle was in fact Ratchet, under the guise of Torque, Megatron gave the medic a choice; to kill Sunstreaker or he would. Only Ratchet couldn't do it, in spite of Sunstreaker's encouragement, and instead he turned his blaster on himself. Now the twins are desperate to save the life of the mech they love in the only way they believe is left to them, regardless of Ratchets desire to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to non-con, please see notes if you wish to know more before reading this chapter.

For a while there was much toing and froing, mechs in and out of the med bay, commotion coming from behind the closed doors, shouts and commands. Several times the crash of a tool tray hitting the floor was heard while curses, not normally heard from the young Autobot medic accompanied the loud sounds. In a word, the med bay had been chaos, a far cry from the tight ship Ratchet ran. First Aid did his best and was more than competent, but even he knew he wasn't Ratchet and right now that was exactly who Ratchet needed.

But now the corridor was filled with silence and only a dim light bled through the windows from the med bay. There was still a small crowd behind the closed doors, the command team all insisting on hearing First Aid's report first hand, the Protectobot giving his verdict before answering questions.

The twins had kept a vigil in the corridor outside the med bay waiting for news, any little bit of news, but it had been as though they weren't even there, no one keeping them updated. Hound and Bluestreak stopped by to bring them energon and kept the front liners company for a while, making them promise to keep them informed when they had to leave to fulfil duty shifts, but other than that no one else had said a word to the pair, not even their Prime who had remained in the med bay throughout Ratchet's surgery.

The first mech to leave the room was Wheeljack, the engineer's demeanour very subdued, the lights of his fins static in a pale shade of blue. Wheeljack took a seat next to Sideswipe and pressing his thumb and forefinger into his optics he gave a small vent, warm air wafting over Sideswipe's plating, a little too close for Sideswipe's liking but his concern for Ratchet stopped him reacting.

"Jack." Sideswipe ventured, Wheeljack's quietness worrying the red twin. "What's happening?"

Looking at the young soldier, Wheeljack failed to hide the sadness in his voice. "We tried so very hard." In the quiet corridor Wheeljack's words sounded hard and over loud so he lowered his vocals. "We repaired all severed lines and patched him up." Wheeljack fell silent and worry coursed through the twins.

"Jack!" Sunstreaker snapped from the other side of his brother. "Just tell us what's happening. We've sat here for hours without any updates, so please," Sunstreaker's tone softened. "Just be honest, is he..." He faltered for a moment. "Will Ratchet be okay?"

Silence between the three of them had barely fallen before Wheeljack blurted out, "he's dying!" Cold shock consuming both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. That couldn't be right, they must've misheard Wheeljack. "Ratchet's spark is dying." He continued.

"But...but he missed his spark," Sideswipe replied, confused. "Even I could see the wound was to the side of his spark casing. How..." Sideswipe paused and looked at Sunstreaker, desperate for his twin to tell him that he had misheard but Sunstreaker wouldn't look at Sideswipe. “Please.” He whispered to his brother before silently begging Sunstreaker to tell him it wasn't true, but Sunstreaker kept his gaze averted.

Wheeljack refrained from reaching out for the younger mech's hand. They may be friends but Wheeljack knew the boundaries. "It wasn't the blaster fire, Sideswipe." Sideswipe tore his optics away from Sunstreaker. "His spark is simply giving up." Wheeljack gave Sideswipe a moment to digest what he had said.

"But!..." Sideswipe trailed off. "I don't understand." He whispered, his hand reaching for Sunstreaker's, his optics dropping to the ground.

Wheeljack shifted in his seat. He ached all over, his frame demanding recharge, but this was more important than getting rest. "I know Ratchet," he started. "Better than he knows himself sometimes, and he may have returned to the Decepticons but he would've struggled with that decision, it would've eaten away at him. When he first joined the Autobots it took a long time for him to accept what he had been involved in had been out of his hands, even longer for him to move on, and going back to that, well," Wheeljack paused. "I know he wouldn't be able to live with himself."

"He didn't have to leave." Sideswipe piped up, optics shooting up to look at Wheeljack. "He let those jerks he's taken care of win, and he ran away, _he_ did that!" Sideswipe was suddenly filled with anger, anger that was a long time coming. "Those who cared for him would've looked out for him, but _noooo_ ," Sideswipe sprang to his feet, Sunstreaker's arm jerking up with him until their hands separated. "Ratchet knows best, even when he doesn't!"

Sideswipe stalked towards the med bay doors, Sunstreaker jumping up ready to stop Sideswipe from storming in but his twin stopped and merely looked through the window. "He _can't_ be dying."

Sunstreaker felt Sideswipe's anger evaporate from the bond as quickly as it had filled it and from behind he wrapped his arms around his twin, pressing the sides of their helms together as he looked over Sideswipe’s shoulder into the med bay.

Sideswipe slumped into Sunstreaker's hold. "He's too stubborn to give up." He murmured.

"He asked me to kill him." Sunstreaker finally spoke. "When I attacked him, he wanted me to kill him. He wanted to die." Sideswipe shook his head in denial despite feeling what Sunstreaker said was true. "He said it was the only way he could stop what was coming." With so much going on Sunstreaker had forgotten that Ratchet had been trying to tell him. Did it even matter now? Now that Ratchet was dying.

Wheeljack watched the twins, a little jealous of the way they supported one another. They had each other through thick and thin, unless of course it was one of them in the med bay, but they had each other whilst Wheeljack had no one. Ratchet had been his best friend and family, looking out for him and ensuring he kept healthy. Wheeljack did the same for Ratchet too and he had been lost since his friend had left.

"There has to be _something_ we can do." Sunstreaker looked over his shoulder at Wheeljack. "After everything he's done for all of us this can't be it."

Rising from his seat the engineer joined the twins at the med bay window. "The machine is sustaining his spark energy for now, but for how long who knows." Wheeljack focused on the prone frame of his friend on the med berth. "If he was bonded then there would be a better chance, strength can be drawn for the stronger spark...well, I don't need to tell you two that, but if he doesn't want to live then who is to say that would even be enough." Sadness filled Wheeljack's spark. If he had been a better friend to Ratchet then this wouldn't be happening, maybe Ratchet wouldn't have felt the need to run.

Suddenly the group in the med bay made their way to the door, First Aid remaining at Ratchet's berth checking stats. Prowl was the first to exit, the twins and Wheeljack stepping back to let him through.

"Please tell us Wheeljack has it wrong." Sideswipe pleaded with Prowl. "Ratchet isn't...can't be..." He couldn't bring himself to say it.

Normally blank faceplates were filled with sadness and Prowl floundered for the right words. Despite the fact that many mechs thought him to be cold and unfeeling he mourned the death of every mech who lost their life under his command, but Ratchet wasn't just a name on a list, a face he passed in the hallways, he was an old friend, a carer, family, just as he had been to so many mechs.

Jazz was hot on Prowl's heels, almost crashing into his comrade’s back but stepping to the side just in time. His spark was heavy and he tried to flash a smile to the group outside the med bay but there nothing there inside him, just emptiness.

Sideswipe looked between the two, looking for something, anything that would suggest that there was a glimmer of hope. "Jazz." He whispered. He felt Sunstreaker's hand slide into his own, squeezing tightly. "Please, someone tell us he’ll be okay."

Optimus finally stepped into the hall and the group shifted to make room for him and Ironhide as he flanked the larger mech. "I really wish we could, Sideswipe." Optimus was unmasked and his face pinched, sending the tanks of the twins plummeting like a heavy weight. "The spark, whilst being strong and powerful is also a fragile thing." The Prime's vocaliser caught and all he could do was place a large hand on a shoulder of each twin, squeezing before stepping away. For the first time since the start of the war, Optimus didn't have to give what his crew needed from him.

Ironhide gave the twins a doleful look, squeezing each on the arm before he followed the Prime, leaving the others behind.

Sunstreaker looked at Jazz. "So that's it, we all walk away and leave him to die?" He expertly kept his sparkache from his voice. "We give up?"

Jazz shook his helm. "We're not giving up Sunstreaker, there's just nothing left for us to do."

Anger welled up in Sunstreaker, " _No!_ " He growled. "I won't believe it and I won't let him die." Regardless of what Ratchet had begged him to do, Sunstreaker found that he couldn't accept that this was it, not yet.

"What do you think you're going to do?" Jazz snapped, his usual calmness gone. "It's Ratchet who's given up, not us. Ratchet gave up when he left!" The commander's frame panted as he tried to hide his own anger. "And there's nothing we can do about it but watch him fade."

Sunstreaker glared angrily and this time it was Sideswipe's turn to soothe.

Prowl suddenly snapped out of his own malaise. The last thing the Autobots needed was their command team falling apart. "I suggest we all get some recharge, it has been a long day."

A pair of incredulous looks were thrown at Prowl and Sideswipe stepped forward. "Recharge is the last thing on our minds, Ratchet needs someone to sit with him." Before anyone could stop him the red front liner was entering the med bay, the shock of seeing Ratchet linked up to machines close up hitting him hard.

The medic was now in his Autobot colours, the colours he had worn for longer than he had ever been a Decepticon.

"I thought it more appropriate for him to be in his own colours." First Aid's quiet voice caused Sideswipe to jump, he hadn't noticed the Protectobot stood at the foot of the berth.

"But these aren't his colours, not really." Sideswipe murmured.

The young medic came to stand beside Sideswipe whole Sunstreaker joined his twin. "I don't believe he joined Megatron this time around through desire, and reverting back to his original format was probably his way of coping." First Aid didn't know what else to say to the front line twins. He didn't have much interaction with them in general, of course that changed when Ratchet left but still, he didn't really know the pair.

Sideswipe continued to study Ratchet's still frame, he still couldn't accept what he was being told. "Have you double checked your results?" He didn't look at First Aid.

"They have been checked several times over." The medic quietly replied.

"We want a second opinion." Sideswipe countered.

The twins were aware of someone walking into the med bay behind them, their plating prickling before Sunstreaker turned to glare at the intruder.

Wheeljack walked over to the monitor and changed the display screen, a graph and glyphs replacing the stats the machine had been monitoring. "Here's your second opinion." Wheeljack pointed to the graph, his finger following the downward incline. "This collates all spark readings over a given period of time in graph form, as you can see it is showing a steady decline." The engineer then pointed to glyphs dotted around the graph. "The numbers here show the energy levels at certain intervals, at no point is there any spike in energy." Switching the monitor back to the original output, the four mechs watched the slow pulse of energy on the screen. "His spark energy doesn't show any erratic behaviour as you would expect it to when fighting to recover." Wheeljack looked at the twins. "He _is_ dying."

Spark aching at his own words, Wheeljack twisted his hands together and with a nod he headed for the exit. He was about to lose his friend and he needed to come to terms with it himself.

"Aid," Sideswipe started. "There must be something we can do."

Shutting down his data pad the medic gave Ratchet’s frame a quick glance over. "I'm so sorry Sideswipe, I only wish there was."

Giving a soft snort, Sideswipe replied, "because wishing ever helped anyone."

First Aid cast the twins a sad look and nodding to them he headed towards his office. "Stay as long as you like."

Sunstreaker frowned. "We're not about to let him die alone."

Sideswipe made a sound in the back of his throat at his brother's words, hating that Sunstreaker was now seeming to accept it.

 _~There's no point denying it.~_ Sunstreaker snapped through their bond before filling it with love. Sideswipe flashed him a sad look but said nothing as he moved across the medbay to grab a couple of chairs. Setting them as close to the berth as he could he dropped into one, Sunstreaker following suit.

"Why, Ratchet?" Sideswipe suddenly asked. "Why did you have to run? You are always running. From The Decepticons, from Autobots, and from us." He snorted as his last comment but he felt no mirth. Sideswipe turned to Sunstreaker. "What are we going to do?"

Sunstreaker's mouth tugged down in a frown as he studied the damage to Ratchet's frame. "Get on with life."

The pair fell silent, Sideswipe wanting to scream and rant at his brother for that response, Sunstreaker just wanting to scream and rant his pain.

For a long while the twins sat silently, watching the lifeless frame of Ratchet as if waiting for movement, even the tiniest twitch. During their silent vigil First Aid came to read Ratchet's stats several times, doing what he needed to do without a word before leaving them to it.

Eventually the medic left the med bay after Hot Spot came and insisted that his subordinate came back to their quarters so that he could rest, and with most of the Ark's occupants also now in recharge the Ark was quiet. The lights were out in the med bay, the only light coming from the monitor screens and through the windows from the hall, and matching sets of blue optics glowing brightly, illuminating the twins’ features.

The pair had barely moved from their positions, nor had they spoken, they had just watched, waiting until Sideswipe finally moved, his hand resting on Ratchet's arm and a moment later he climbed on the berth.

"What are you doing?" Sunstreaker hissed. "Get off there!"

"His plating is cold." Sideswipe plainly answered, settling down beside the unconscious medic, leaving only a small space between their frames as he curled one arm under his head and the other against his chest.

Sunstreaker watched for a moment before slowly rising from his seat and mimicking his brother until the pair of them lay either side of Ratchet, surrounding him.

"He looks peaceful." Sunstreaker commented, his optics following the the line of Ratchet’s nose and mouth as he studied him from the side. "He never looked peaceful, even here where we don't constantly battle."

Sideswipe didn't respond, instead he unfurled his arm from against his chest and lightly rested his hand on the medic's chest. "Can't feel his energy."

Sunstreaker's optics tracked up to the spark monitor. He was no expert but he had watched machines attached to Sideswipe enough times to be able to read them. "Readings have dropped since we arrived." Sunstreaker felt the lurch of Sideswipe's spark through the bond.

"How long d'you think it'll take?" Sideswipe didn't really want to know but at the same time he wanted to be prepared.

Sunstreaker shrugged and didn't offer an answer.

Letting his energy field envelope the three of them, Sunstreaker's energy fusing with his, Sideswipe quietly asked, "How can we just watch him die?"

"We don't have a choice."

Sideswipe snorted. "Yet we are constantly told there is _always_ a choice."

Sunstreaker shot a look at his brother. "Well, we do I suppose, we don't have to watch."

Annoyance flared through the bond from Sideswipe. "You know exactly what I mean, how can we just let him die?"

A hand joined Sideswipe's and their fingers twinned. "What d'you think we can do, Swipe? If First Aid can't help him..." Sunstreaker lifted his head from where it rested on his arm and narrowed his optics at his brother. "Sideswipe?!" Sideswipe's optics met Sunstreaker's.

"Just thinking about something Jack said." Sideswipe didn't elaborate.

"Sideswipe!" Sunstreaker snapped. He could sense his brother was thinking something that he didn't think he was going to like the sound of.

"We could try to help him." Sideswipe held his twin's gaze, the bond lighting up with a flurry of thoughts and emotions from his end, Sunstreaker quickly deciphering them as they filtered through.

"Swiiipe?" He questioned warily, then Sideswipe pulsed a final thought through and Sunstreaker's optics flared brightly before settling into a darker hue of their natural colour. "No!"

"But if it's his only hope!"

"You're totally insane!" Sunstreaker hiked himself up onto his elbow, his other hand still twinned with Sideswipe's, laying protectively over Ratchet's chest. "Do you realise what you're suggesting?"

"Do you have any other ideas?" Sideswipe glared at Sunstreaker, a little angry that his twin wasn't instantly agreeing with him.

Unlocking their hands Sunstreaker pulled himself up and moved to sit on the edge of the berth, his back to his brother. "We can't, it would be..."

"What?" Sideswipe snapped. "Wrong!" He too pulled himself up and getting off the berth he walked around to Sunstreaker's side, stepping between his legs and moving close to him, pressing their foreheads together as his hands rested on golden shoulders. "I know it is." He whispered. "I know how it would look, but if it works, if it means Ratchet survives..."

"But he doesn't _want_ to live!" Sunstreaker cut his brother off. "He's made that clear."

"You can't honestly tell me he truly wishes to die, he...he can't want to die." Sideswipe bombarded the bond with his presence, almost suffocating Sunstreaker.

" _Stop!_ " Sunstreaker snarled, gripping Sideswipe by the wrists and pushing him back so that they looked at one another. "It's _not_ going to happen, got it? We can't just bond with him, he's unconscious, he can't consent! Do you understand this?"

Sideswipe held Sunstreaker's gaze. "I'm not stupid but Jack said that if he was bonded then Ratchet has a better chance."

"But he's not bonded, Swipe, and Wheeljack didn't say it would've helped for sure, he said Ratch _might_ have had a chance." Sunstreaker, his hands still around Sideswipe's wrists, pulled his twin back towards him. His tone was softer when he spoke. "We can't do this, Swipe. I don't want him to die any more than you do but what you're suggesting we do, we just can't." He finally let go of Sideswipe's wrists and pushed himself off the berth, Sideswipe stepping back to allow him space.

"Then I'll do it myself." Sideswipe loudly whispered, his gaze moving from Sunstreaker to Ratchet. "The chances of the bond taking with my spark only will be reduced but it's still better than doing nothing at all."

Sunstreaker wanted to strangle Sideswipe. "Can you even hear yourself? You're suggesting forcing a bond on someone who can't even say no, let alone give consent."

"You'd do whatever you could to save me, right?" Sideswipe looked back at Sunstreaker.

There was no hesitation from Sunstreaker. "In a sparkbeat."

"So what's the difference? We love him, why wouldn't we do the same for him?"

"The difference is, Swipe, we hold one another's lives in our hands and most importantly, we consent. Ratchet couldn't even stand to be near us."

"But he's always done what he needs to save a life, he'd understand..."

" _No!_ Of all your idiotic ideas...just, no!" Sunstreaker stepped around Sideswipe and towards the exit.

Sideswipe spun around, gaze following his twin. "Where are you going?"

The doors automatically opened. "I need space to think."

"But Sunny, Ratchet, we can't leave him."

"I need space, alone." Sunstreaker called over his shoulder before walking down the corridor. _~And if you do anything, I'll beat your aft!~_

Sideswipe glared at the empty doorway, the doors eventually sliding back into place, separating the twins. After a moment Sideswipe turned back to the berth but instead of climbing back on it to lay next to Ratchet, he took one of the seats. Resting his elbows on the berth edge he bowed his head and leaned his forehead against clasped hands, his lips moving in a whisper as recited an old Cybertronian chant.

The red mech took Primus' name in vain on a regular basis but as for believing in his existence, Sideswipe, when he gave it thought questioned the idea. However he was feeling desperate and right now he needed someone or something to believe in, and if Primus did exist, if he was all they were taught he was, then surely Sideswipe's intermittent belief would be forgiven.

\-------------------------

Sunstreaker stalked through the Ark, his mood sombre and feelings jumbled. He was hurting, maybe already grieving for Ratchet, but it was so difficult to allow himself to wallow when Sideswipe needed him to be the rock he always clung to. Just once Sunstreaker wanted to be the one who broke, and not in the way he was known for; not the violent reactions his comrades came to expect, goaded him into even.

He passed the turn to their quarters and continued through the main artery of the Ark, the hallways leading him to the Ark's entrance. He was aware that the cameras were tracking him, just as they had been watching them in med bay, and he knew exactly who was on monitor duty for the night cycle.

On any other given day Sunstreaker would throw a glare at the camera but he kept his head bent, optics trained on the ground until eventually he stepped out into the night. The breeze made the outside air cooler than within the Ark, his plating registering the drop in temperature and causing a momentary shudder as his frame adjusted to the change. He was tempted to go for a drive and run his feelings into the ground but he didn't want to stray too far so scanning the area for any of his comrades who may also be taking a midnight stroll, he found himself to be alone. Making a decision, Sunstreaker turned and walked to his left, following the curve of the volcano which had been part of their home for several Earth decades as he headed towards a well worn track that led up and around the rocky surface, taking him towards a plateau carved into the side of the volcano.

Ignoring the debris of items scattered around the place, left behind by the other bots, Sunstreaker dropped himself onto one of the well worn couches and silently stared out at the starry sky head of him. Sunstreaker felt Sideswipe's despondency through the bond as well as the pain that echoed in his own spark, but he didn’t shut his twin out. They had both been in love with Ratchet for so long that Sunstreaker could no longer remember a time when they didn't feel deeply for him, but their feelings were unrequited, or so they had thought.

A sudden surge of anger rolled through Sunstreaker. It had been a Megatron who disclosed the medic's feelings towards him, telling him what they had both wanted to hear for a long time, but even as he lay there half dead, Ratchet didn't admit to his feelings, only telling Sunstreaker that it was he who hadn’t been good enough for the twins.

Sideswipe sent a pulse at Sunstreaker's sudden burst of anger through the bond. Sunstreaker hadn't yet relayed to his twin what Megatron had told him, he didn't know how to nor did he want to give Sideswipe a ray of hope where there wasn't one. Sending a pulse of reassurance back to Sideswipe, Sunstreaker narrowed the connection between them. He felt Sideswipe push against the light block but Sunstreaker ignored him for a moment.

The golden twin was always the stronger of the two, even when he was dying inside, but right at this moment he needed to let go. Sunstreaker needed to grieve for Ratchet, for the love they never had the opportunity to lavish on him and for the love they craved but never received. He also needed to grieve for Ratchet's own spark break, the actions that drove him back to the Decepticons, the pain and guilt he had secretly carried for so long over his past work.

Sunstreaker's plating began to tremble and his hands clenched, vents panting hard and ragged as he fought against a rising sob. He fought as hard as he could, his lip now caught between his denta and he bit down, piercing the silicone layer, but the floodgates still opened and all Sunstreaker's emotions rushed to the surface. The sound that left him was akin to that of a strangled forest creature, momentarily startling Sunstreaker before he finally broke, and sat alone under the stars Sunstreaker shook and sobbed as all of his hurt, love and failures scrambled for attention.

\-------------------------

The air in the med bay was unexpectedly calm as, still sat in the seat he had taken when Sunstreaker stormed out, Sideswipe recited every Cybertronian chant and verse he knew, but nothing had changed. Ratchet still lay lifeless before him and Sideswipe's spark ached with loss and loneliness.

Two hours had passed since Sunstreaker had left the med bay, the measure of time nothing to them, but that didn't stop the slow, agonising wait. Lifting his helm from its bowed state, Sideswipe once more pressed against the block Sunstreaker had earlier put between them. Sideswipe knew his brother inside out and understood why Sunsteaker had narrowed the bond between them, but it still hurt. No matter how cold, dangerous and distant they were, or how they kept most others at arm's length, they needed one another, yet Sideswipe was here alone, watching Ratchet fade away.

Drawing in a deep draft of air, his vents closing to hold it before he released the air in a heavy puff, Sideswipe pushed himself out of his seat. Many thoughts swirled around his mind but one continuously gnawed at him and he could hear Wheeljack's voice over and over, _if he was bonded then there would be a better chance..._

It made complete sense to Sideswipe as he and Sunstreaker drew on one another's spark energy whenever they needed it. With his claws safely tucked away, Sideswipe tracked a fore finger down the invisible seam in his chest plating, his spark swirling in anticipation. He could also hear Sunstreaker's voice too, _you're suggesting forcing a bond on someone who can't even say no..._

Shuttering his optics Sideswipe drew another draught of air as he centred himself, clearing his mind of the voices and his thoughts. When he unshuttered his optics they were cold and determined, his mind finally calm as he ran his finger back up his chest seam before commanding his plating to unlock, a sliver of a gap appearing between the two halves of his cheat. With plates still closed the red twin climbed back on the berth and lay propped up alongside Ratchet, his hand falling to damaged plating, lightly running his fingers down Ratchet's chest before slipping them underneath the bottom edge, claws unsheathing as tips brushed along cables, searching.

The twins weren't strangers to opening the chest plates of others; the only way to survive the gladiator fights was to reach the spark of their opponents before their own was extinguished, but before Sideswipe could override Ratchet’s locks, the sudden sound of the med bay doors opening caused hI’m to freeze, his battle protocols flaring into life until Sunstreaker's presence filled the bond. Pulling his fingers from under Ratchet's plating Sideswipe pulled himself up and shifted until he sat on the edge of the berth, his optics meeting Sunstreaker's and he braced himself for his brother's anger.

"We're in this together." Sunstreaker hovered by the door for a moment before walking towards Sideswipe and stepping between his thighs, and lifting a hand to the back of Sideswipe's head, Sunstreaker pulled him in for a soft and brief kiss. "We love him together and we'll try to save him together, and when slag goes down for this we'll go down together."

Choked by his brother's support Sideswipe nodded. "I understand what I'm suggesting is wrong, but I'd rather be hated for doing this than knowing I let him die."

"We." Sunstreaker reminded Sideswipe as he pressed in for another kiss. "Here." He encouraged Sideswipe to lay beside Ratchet and then made his way to other side, mirroring his brother as they had earlier done. "Remember though, it may not work, we may not be able to create the bond when he's like this."

"But we might." Sideswipe watched Sunstreaker as he settled down. "And that's better than doing nothing at all."

Sunstreaker looked apprehensive. He wasn't sure if he could agree that what they were about to do was better than nothing at all. It didn't matter why they were doing it, they were still acting without consent. "It's going to be awkward, Ratch will be too much of a deadweight like this and when our sparks overload we won't be able to hold him, we'll have to leave him laying down."

Sideswipe nodded at Sunstreaker And waited for his brother to take the lead.

The beep of the monitor didn't hide the sound of Sunstreaker's chest unlocking and Sideswipe sent a pulse of love through the bond. "If you change your mind I'll do it alone."

In spite of his apprehension Sunstreaker shook his head. "Together." He whispered as his plating began to fold and slide away, exposing the inside of his chest and the crystal shield to his spark.

Sideswipe's fingers slipped back under Ratchet's chest plates and resumed their earlier work, the sound of unlocking meeting both of their audials. "The camera." Sideswipe stated, glancing to one of the far corners of the medbay. "You know who's on duty."

Sunstreaker, his back to the offending camera, gave a curt answer, his jaw clenching. "Yep!"

Sideswipe suddenly leapt from the berth, moving quickly towards the camera. His pounce was swift and smooth as he quickened the few short steps he needed to reach his destination and push himself into a jump. Sunstreaker looked over his shoulder and watched as one of Sideswipe's energon blades appeared and he swiped at the camera, the ruby twin baring his denta at the lens, and the watcher, as he took the camera out.

With the camera damaged, Sunstreaker unplugged the monitor from Ratchet’s frame, letting the cables fall to the berth.

"We won't have long." Sideswipe was quickly back at the berth. "Even if he wasn't watching he'll notice the feed is down." Settling back down Sideswipe finally opened his chest whilst Sunstreaker took over where he left off and forced Ratchet's chest plates open; albeit in a much gentler manner than the motions used with his opponents.

the two stared at the open chest between them, their optics drawn to the pulses of light behind the crystal cover. It was Sunstreaker who reached out and stroked over the barrier, the energy weekly seeping through and crackling around his fingers before they slipped down the side of the spark casing, applying pressure until the crystal slid away.

"Ready?" Sideswipe asked.

His mouth set a thin line Sunstreaker nodded once and the covers to the twins’ sparks slid open as they reached out to one another to pulltheir frames towards each other, covering Ratchet's between them.

Ratchet’s spark was weak, its light nowhere near as bright with life as it should be, yet a single, flickering tendril found the strength to reach out, seeking the stronger energy of the two sparks that were once a single life force. A tendril from one of the twins extended and twined with the one reaching from Ratchet’s chest and a bolt of pleasure shot through both of them, but they ignored it as all three sparks called for one another’s energy and emerged from their protective cases, looking to make contact.

 _~His spark is so weak.~_ Sideswipe whispered through the bond,

 _~Mhmm.~_ Sunstreaker focused his attention on the other life forces between them. One of them had to make the first move and with a gentle pulse he pushed his spark forward, more of its tendrils reaching out, seeking energy.

Sideswipe’s spark was only a pulse behind, the two stronger halfs of a split spark encompassing the weaker, whole one between them, slowly engulfing it. As the merge burned through the twins their optics shuttered while fingers flexed on one another's plating. Sideswipe felt Sunstreaker falter through the bond and he tightened his hold on his brother.

 _~For Ratchet.~_ Sideswipe’s words ghosted through their connection and he encouraged Sunstreaker to merge deeper.

Sunstreaker couldn't respond even through the bond. He felt sick at what they were doing, forcing themselves on an unconscious mech, forcing their will for Ratchet to live, but Sunstreaker didn't attempt to pull away as he focused on the mech he and Sideswipe had fallen for, focused on the care Ratchet bestowed upon them when injured, despite the countless rejections of their affection.

Sidesiwpe could feel Sunstreaker’s thoughts so he flooded the bond with memories and images. Not all their encounters with Ratchet were bad, there had been times of amusement, times when the twins had the opportunity to be close to the medic without imposing their unwanted affection.

Together the twins pushed into the merge, their sparks spinning tightly, dragging Ratchet’s with them and slowly his presence began to trickle through the three way connection; Ratchet couldn't project any thoughts and feelings but neither could he stop them and the first images were distorted, fragmented.

 _~Deeper.~_ Sideswipe encouraged Sunstreaker and they crossed the point of no return.

The images filtering through started to become clearer but the mech they were looking at wasn't the Ratchet they recognised. Seeing him in his original form disorientated the twins for a moment but they pushed even deeper, watching Torque in his youth, happy and unencumbered by his future life decisions, and they shared a feeling of awe as they watched him achieve his ambitions. They saw his friendship with Wheeljack, cemented for life in spite of their later differences and beliefs! and Sideswipe couldn't help but feel a little envious of Wheeljack, having what they couldn't have, having Ratchet in his life and suddenly the enormity of what they were doing hit the ruby twin. If this worked, if Ratchet survived, they had forcing themselves into Ratchet’s life when he had made it clear to them he didn't want them there.

Suddenly Sideswipe could hear Megatron in his head, shock and horror rushing through him as the images he had been watching blurred and disappeared.

 _~Listen.~_ Sunstreaker sent a pulse of calmness through to his brother and Sideswipe focused on the words as Sunstreaker relayed them again.

 _Yes, yes. Torque loves you Sunstreaker but protected you by pushing you away, blah, blah..._ Megatron’s voice was just as cutting as if he had been in the room with them, causing both of them to shudder. Confusion washed through the bond Sideswipe.

 _~He's talking about Ratchet.~_ Sunstreaker told his brother. _~Before Ratchet shot himself. They must've downloaded his memories.~_ Overwhelmed, Sideswipe couldn't respond and he sank further into the merge, pulling Sunstreaker with him.

Their sparks were beginning to burn hotly now, their bond with Ratchet taking hold and in unison, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker pulsed love through, not sure if Ratchet could feel it but they still did it anyway; forcing themselves on him in every way.

Feelings began to make themselves known, feelings not belonging to the twins, Torque further discovering life and friends, estatic as he was offered a medical scholarship. The pair witnessed and felt him falling in love, jealousy coursing through the twins, then having his spark broken, the twins soothing the memory of pain.

Then there was Shockwave and a growl reverberated through the connection, but feelings of humbleness came back at them. This briefly amused the twins, the Ratchet they knew was never humble. They watched as Torque revelled in his work for Shockwave, looking up to him and helping fulfill Megatron’s desire to help the lower castes, ensuring no one went without the life saving medicine the starving had been promised.

But the mood changed as memories jumped in time, something wasn't right, Torque becoming suspicious of his mentor.

Suddenly there was clawing and an imagined stench of death and rusting filled the senses of the twins as hands grasped at plating that wasn't theirs. Slowly, through Torque’s optics, they saw the scale of what he saw, a room full of mechs, some dead and others dying, cramped into the too small hospital ward. They heard cries of pain and pleas for help and amongst it all they felt Torque’s horror.

Between Sideswipe and Sunstreake, Ratchet’s frame began to twitch as he tried to escape his memories. It was the first signs of life the medic had shown since his surgery and the twins ploughed deeper into the merge, soothing him, telling him it was okay.

Guilt was the next feeling to roll through the merge, guilt and grief over what the medic had been implicit in, what he had then been forced to do once he confronted Shockwave, and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker felt a little of him die at each massacre carried out by the drones he helped create until they saw the moment he broke, when he ran, putting a price on his head.

As the bond further melded the lives of the three mechs together the twins experienced Torque’s life as an Autobot, when he took on his new identity. Sideswipe briefly wondered about the original _Ratchet_  Torque had taken his identity from but his thoughts were soon interrupted as time continued to jump, pulling the twins along with it, allowing them snippets of Ratchet’s thoughts and feelings over the eons. As time filtered past the twins appeared and that was when the biggest onslaught of feelings they had experience in the merge came through.

Frustration.

Anger.

Worry.

Lust.

Love.

Regret.

Sorrow.

It was the feeling of sorrow which lingered the longest; Ratchet’s sorrow over what he had done, and over the love he would not let himself have. What Wheeljack had told Sideswipe when Ratchet went missing, and later Megatron when he taunted Sunstreaker earlier in battle, was confirmed as they learned how Ratchet denied himself the one thing he wanted, partly as a punishment for his past life and partly to protect the twins, but his love for them was undeniable.

Suddenly an explosion of light and feelings rolled through the twins, the two becoming isolated from each other and Ratchet as they were each cocooned by the powerful energy the three of them created, yet so intertwined that there was no beginning and no end between them.

Then it was over.

Now their lives were eternally bound together and all the twins could do was to wait and see if what they had done, worked. They had closed themselves from any pleasure they would feel, their frames panting heavily as their systems worked to rid itself of the energy still coursing through it, and for a few moments the twins couldn't hear past the whirring of their fans.

Eventually the frames calmed down and lazily their sparks retracted, the tendrils from all three remaining tangled until they had no choice but to part, their life energies instantly yearning for contact with the other as they nestled back into their housings.

Ruby red and golden yellow chest plates unfolded and closed, Sunstreaker gently nudging Ratchet’s shut whilst Sideswipe plugged the previously removed monitor cables back into the medical ports on Ratchet's frame. Pinning his optics on the monitor, looking for a change in energy readings, Sideswipe murmured, “please, please, please.” His hand rubbing over Ratchet’s chest in circles.

“Move off and away from the med berth.”

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker froze, their sparks pulsing hard as their battle programming reared into life.

“I won't. Tell. You again.” The words were punctuated; a threat.

The twins heard the buzz of a blaster and Sunstreaker looked over Sideswipe’s shoulder, his cold optics landing on their _comrade_ and the weapon pointed at Sideswipe’s back. Sunstreaker's instinct was to attack the threat to his brother but instead he raised one hand in surrender and he pushed himself up, his cold optics never leaving the threat.

“No need for a weapons.” He stated coldly and he got off the berth, walking around to Sideswipe’s side, encouraging him to get up too until the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, Ratchet’s unconscious frame protected behind them.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just shoot you both.” The voice filled with disdain replied.

Sunstreaker snarled, “because we'd take your spark before you finished pulling the trigger.”

“And because we do not kill one another, _whatever_ the circumstances.” Another voice answered as Prowl stepped into the med bay, his hand forcing down the blaster aimed at the front liners. “I shall take over from here, Tracks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The content of this chapter was originally intended as dub-con as Ratchet was to be conscious with his consent being ambiguous due to his state of mind caused by his guilt, however the story line changed leaving him unconscious and dying, and completely unable to consent to the twins spark bonding with him in an attempt to save his life. The prompt given for this story is that Ratchet was dying from a broken spark and that the twins were to save him and whilst the twins here are ruthless they are also naive; they know what they are doing is wrong but they are desperate to do what it takes to save someone they love, whatever the consequences.


End file.
